Identifying
by AlphaWolf13
Summary: After Voldemort's defeat, an Eighth Year is offered at Hogwarts. With the Dark Lord gone, Harry is free to create a new identity for himself, as are all the old students. Finding the courage to identify yourself can be hard. Finding a way to justify your cowardice can be even harder. And what if your new identity isn't one you'd invisioned? Eventual Drarry
1. New Beginnings

**I have not read Harry Potter. I watched the movies which probably means all you die hard Harry Potter fans are probably going to want to kill me for writing Harry Potter fanfiction "unprepared". I thought about this long and hard, but I've had this idea for over a year and I really want to run with it. I promise, I'll be sure to check my facts and be as book-compliant as I can be. If I fudge something up, feel free to write me a review and correct me and I'll change it. That being said, this completely ignores the epilogue (well, for the most part). Also, without giving away too much of the mystery, this story deals greatly with the theme of accepting homosexuality, so if you have a problem with that, well there's definitely something wrong with you, but don't leave me any nasty reviews. Anyway, enough rambling. Enjoy my first Harry Potter fanfic and please leave a review. **

**Chapter 1**

**New Beginnings **

Harry Potter anxiously sat himself at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall. He could feel eyes boring into the back of his skull – something that set his hair completely on end. The presence of his friends beside him did little to quell his nervousness, though it did help somewhat. Harry, Ron and Hermione, like all Seventh Years had been invited back to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry as the Second Wizard War had denied them a proper education. Harry had wanted to forgo the formalities of school. He'd already been asked to join Auror training. Of course he was friends with Hermione Granger and so that was clearly never going to happen.

"Lighten up, mate," Ron Weasley, his best friend since the tender age of eleven, laughed quietly into Harry's right ear. "They're only grateful."

Ron knew quite well that Harry despised all the attention he received for being the Saviour of the Wizarding World. Honestly, Ron himself, who thought he'd love the spotlight, was desperately hoping for the whole _hero_ thing to blow over and soon. Hermione couldn't agree more.

"I've spent my whole life being watched," Harry grumbled. "You'd think people could just keep their eyes to themselves."

"If it makes you feel any better, not everyone's looking at you." Harry followed Ron's gaze to the Slytherin table where other _Eighth Year_ students were gathered. Among them was a young man with aristocratic features and a shock of platinum hair. "Death Eater Juniors are back as well it seems."

"Ronald," Hermione snapped, shaking her head in disbelief. "It's called tact! Honestly!"

Harry found it easy to block out the newly dating couple's minor squabble. He'd had enough practice over the years. Ron and Hermione became background noise as he drifted off into thoughts about Draco Malfoy and the roll he had played in his exoneration. Harry wasn't entirely sure whether he made the right choice in helping Narcissa and Draco or not, but he sorely hoped he had.

Harry was pulled out of his thoughts in that moment as the doors to the Great Hall opened and Minerva McGonagall entered followed by a small group of First Years. The war had left most parents frazzled and even more lives completely upturned. The insignificant number of students came as no surprise to Harry. The only Gryffindors that had returned for their eighth year were himself, Ron, Hermione, Seamus and Neville. Much the same, the only Ravenclaw to return was Terry Boot. Hufflepuff saw only Hannah Abbott return to complete her schooling. The only surprise in enrolment was the number of Slytherins to return. With Draco Malfoy sat Blaise Zabini, Theodore Nott and Pansy Parkinson.

"Welcome students," Professor McGonagall – Headmistress McGonagall rather – said, her voice ringing out and brining a chilling silence upon the student body. "Welcome back to a new school year. Let the sorting begin."

Just the same as always, Headmistress McGonagall placed the Sorting Hat on a stool and the hat came to life, singing yet another new song about the Founders and the Houses. First Year students were called up one by one to sit under the hat. The majority of them were sorted into Hufflepuff, much to everyone's surprise. Unsurprisingly, only one student was sorted a Slytherin and the poor child looked mortified. With all the First Years having been sorted, Harry, much like everyone else, assumed the sorting to be over. When, instead of putting the sorting hat away, McGonagall cleared her throat and eyed the students gravely, no one was sure quite what was going on.

"Due to the unusual circumstances created by the Second Wizarding War, Hogwarts will be opening its doors for three orphans who, up until this point, were being homeschooled. It is strongly advised that no one make trouble for them."

Giving the students one last warning look, Headmistress McGonagall flicked her wand and the doors to the Great Hall swung open. Harry looked on among the other curious students as the three orphans came into view. The youngest was a pre-teen boy with sandy-blonde hair and big, blue eyes. Beside him was a teenage girl with brown eyes and honey-blonde hair cut in a bob. A thick, angry scar ran along the right side of her face down her neck disappearing down the collar of her uniform. And finally, the oldest among them was a tall young woman with pale skin, long, black hair and mesmerizing turquoise eyes. Harry was having a hard time imagining her as school-aged. She looked old enough to be in her early twenties and those chilling eyes held the wisdom of woman five times that age.

"Joining the Second Years, Jonathan Strauss," McGonagall called. The shy young boy hesitantly sat on the stool and allowed the Sorting Hat to be placed on his head. After a moment, the hat called out _Hufflepuff_ and Jonathan quickly made his way over to the table of yellow and black ties.

"Joining the Fourth Years, Katherine Cobain," the Headmistress continued, lifting the hat to place it on yet another head of blonde hair. The Sorting Hat barely touched her head before it triumphantly yelled _Ravenclaw_.

"And lastly, completing her education in the special Eighth Year program, Rhea Devonshire." Headmistress McGonagall placed the ragged hat upon the ebony-haired girl's head. Her eyes were momentarily hidden by her straight bangs and she suddenly looked a whole lot less sure of herself than she did when she first walked in.

The hat was quiet for a long time, obviously having a harder time sorting someone who was older than it did with someone who was younger. Finally it roared _Gryffindor_ and Rhea hesitantly took a seat next to Hermione, picking at her black-polished nails nervously.

"I'm Hermione Granger," Hermione whispered. Rhea's head snapped up and she looked, unsure, at the hand Hermione had extended before taking it and shaking it.

"Rhea Devonshire," she mumbled meekly. Harry deduced that she wasn't being shy, just being wary of the first impression she made.

"I'm Harry Potter," Harry said, extending a hand. Again, Rhea examined it for a moment before shaking it firmly.

"Pleased to meet you," she said, smiling lightly. "And thank you."

"I'm Ron Weasley," Ron but in, thinking he was saving Harry from another admirer. Harry however hadn't been put off by Rhea's expression of thanks because it wasn't accompanied with any undue gawking or idolization.

"A pleasure," Rhea mumbled, shaking Ron's hand too.

McGonagall, deciding she'd let the students chatter enough, spoke up at that moment. "Last year was a particularly dark one, one that I'm sure we'll all be glad to have behind us. Now, with a new year before us, I'd like to welcome two new teachers to our staff. First, teaching Muggle Studies, Professor Kennedy Staples."

A tall man stood up from his seat at the High Table. He was almost startlingly thin and delicate-looking. His short, light brown hair stuck up around his head and his green eyes sparkled in mirth. Harry wanted to be focused on how Professor Staples seemed like he'd be a fantastic Professor, but he was left with a sour taste in his mouth remembering that the last Muggle Studies Professor had been killed at Voldemort's hand.

Professor Staples looked their way and lifted his eyebrows playfully. Harry was confused until he saw Rhea cautiously lift a hand and wave.

"You know him?" Harry asked before he had time to think about the question.

"He was a good friend of my parents," she replied and Harry mentally cursed himself for bringing up a potentially sore subject. Rhea didn't appear offended however and Harry counted his blessings.

"Muggle Studies will be a mandatory course this year," McGonagall said sharply. "Any students who argue this point will find themselves promptly expelled."

Rolls of tension washed over the Great Hall under Headmistress McGonagall's firm words. She straightened and continued. "We also have a new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Joshua Fletcher."

Another man stood from his seat and for a very brief moment, Harry thought himself face to face with the ghost of Severus Snape. Of course, this was ridiculous because the man in front of him looked nothing like the late Potions Master. Still, the tall man with his short black hair, brown eyes and richly tanned skin gave Harry the same sinking feeling Snape had always given him.

As soon as he'd stood, Professor Fletcher sat once more, only adding to the brooding impression he gave.

When Headmistress McGonagall finished an exceptionally long speech about house unity and overcoming difficulties, she summoned the banquet to the table. Students greedily filled their plates, their eyes much bigger than their stomachs, something that apparently even a war couldn't change.

"Where are you from, Rhea?" Hermione enquired as she cut up a piece of chicken. On Harry's other side, Ron had a whole drumstick in his hand, eating ungraciously straight off the bone.

"Cambridge," Rhea replied, picking at her lump of mashed potatoes.

"I've been there," Hermione remarked. "It's rather nice."

"It is," Rhea agreed, smiling a little. Hermione and Harry continued to exchange pleasantries with her until the end of the meal. Ron too would have participated, Harry imagined, if he hadn't been stuffing his face full of all the food he could get his hands on.

When the students were dismissed, Hermione offered that Rhea walk with them up to the Gryffindor common room. Rhea nodded her consent and she quietly followed the trio. Before they could leave however, Rhea felt a hand on her shoulder. The four stopped and turned to see Professor Fletcher staring Rhea down.

"It's a shame about Rinette and Pierre," Professor Fletcher said, though his voice sounded cool and aloof and not at all like he thought it was a shame.

"You know, you're allowed to call them my parents. That's typically the title one gives to the people to whom they were born and raised," Rhea said just as coldly as Professor Fletcher had.

"Still, my condolences," he said, quirking his eyebrow in a way that was almost daring Rhea to argue with him further.

Before Rhea could get a word in edgewise, Professor Staples appeared behind where Professor Fletcher stood.

"Hey, Kiddo," he greeted, smiling at Rhea fondly. "Making friends already?"

"Ah, yeah, I guess," Rhea murmured, casting a quick glance at Hermione who nodded. They were friends.

"And Joshua, you're already making nice with your future students," Professor Staples remarked, his voice laced with sarcasm and his expression whimsical.

"Kennedy," Professor Fletcher grumbled, and Harry wasn't sure whether it was in greeting or warning. "If you'll excuse me."

Professor Fletcher quickly turned on his heels and made his way out of the Great Hall. Professor Staples laughed throatily and gave the quartet an amused look.

"Don't mind him," he chuckled. "I'll see you around, Rhea?"

"Yes Kennedy," Rhea sighed. "Or, Professor Staples," she admonished, realizing her mistake.

Professor Staples turned on his heels and headed back to the High Table in the general direction of Headmistress McGonagall. Before Rhea could apologize for the brunette so rudely butting in on them, Hermione asked her whether or not she'd be taking Arithmancy and she lost herself in small talk once more.

That night, before going to sleep, Harry wondered how Rhea had lost her parents. He wondered how Rhea and Professor Staples knew each other. He wondered why Professor Fletcher had been so hostile towards her. But most of all, he wondered as he had all evening, if Draco Malfoy was capable of change or if he had, with the best of intentions mind you, helped a guilty man walk free.


	2. Apologies

**Here's chapter two. I'm planning to update every Friday so the updates should be regular. And I'm glad to see some people favourite and follow my story, but come on guys. Could you please take the extra 2.2 seconds to comment? It means a lot to me. But anyway, please enjoy. **

**Chapter 2**

**Apologies**

Harry awoke early the next morning as the sun shone through the window in the boys' dormitory and into his eyes. Classes were scheduled to start today and he sighed, running a hand through his ever messy hair. Getting up, he padded to the washrooms, turning on the shower and cleaning himself off. When he had finished, Ron, Seamus and Neville were all awake as well. Waiting until the last of them were showered and ready, they headed down to breakfast.

At the Gryffindor table, Hermione sat deep in conversation with the newest Gryffindor Eighth Year. Ron sat beside his girlfriend, eyebrows furrowing as he picked up bits of their conversation on Ancient Runes.

"Blimey," Ron sighed. "Secretly Ravenclaws, the both of you."

Harry chuckled good-naturedly and sat beside the flummoxed ginger. He poured himself a glass of pumpkin juice and piled bacon and toast onto his plate. An airy laugh sounded from behind him and he spun in time to see Ginny leaning down and kissing his cheek sweetly.

"Someone's hungry," she teased, grabbing a seat beside Harry.

"I'm not as bad as your brother," he said, pointing to where they all assumed Ron's plate had once been, though now it was but a heaping pile of food.

"It's all men, Ginny," Hermione sighed, stealing a piece of Ron's toast much to his chagrin. "I wouldn't worry too much."

"I don't think we've met," Ginny said to Rhea once her laughter had subsided. "I'm Ginny Weasley."

Harry had to wonder if thoroughly examining a hand before shaking it was a nervous tick of Rhea's as she scrutinized Ginny's outstretched hand for a moment before taking it.

"Rhea Devonshire," the ebony-haired girl muttered. "Pleased to meet you."

"So you're in Harry's class then?" Ginny wondered, giving the other girl a quick onceover. Harry knew that Ginny was _sizing up the competition_ so to speak, though Ginny didn't need to worry about Harry running off with another woman. Ginny was the only girl he'd ever love.

"Yeah," Rhea said, seeing that she was being studied and shifting uncomfortably in her seat.

Luckily, Seamus chose that moment to arrive at their side looking totally crushed. "Oi, you realize what we have first class?"

They all shook their heads and Seamus almost shuddered.

"Muggle Studies with the Slytherins," he exclaimed, flopping down on the bench next to Rhea.

"That's a bad thing, I gather," Rhea said slowly, examining her new friends' expressions closely.

"Bloody Slytherin gits are all Death Eater spawn," Ron spat. "They'd never be taking Muggle Studies if McGonagall wasn't forcing them."

"Ronald Weasley," Hermione snapped, clipping Ron on the back of the head. "What did I tell you about lumping all Slytherins together like that?" She turned to Rhea and tried to reverse the damage her boyfriend had made. "They're not all bad. Most of them come from Death Eater families, yes, but then you can understand why they might be slightly prejudiced."

"I can't believe you're sticking up for the same gits who spent years calling you a _Mudblood_," Ron spat, putting down the piece of bacon he'd been eating, totally disgusted.

"Would you rather I stay bitter, Ron?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Where's Neville?" Harry asked, changing the subject before Ron and Hermione's squabbling turned into honest fighting.

"Eating with Hannah," Seamus said, a grin plastered on his face.

"Hannah Abbott?" Hermione asked curiously, momentarily distracted from her anger.

"They seem to be getting on quite well," Seamus confirmed.

"That's great," Harry said, glad to see his friend finally come into his own. Besides, someone ought to benefit from the War Glory.

"Hold on a minute," Seamus said, really looking at Rhea for the first time. "I don't think we've been introduced. I'm Seamus Finnigan."

Seamus extended a hand and Harry expected Rhea to take her good ole time examining it but to his surprise, she took it immediately without a moment of hesitation.

"Rhea Devonshire," she said. "Pleased to meet you."

"Pleasure's all mine, Love," he smirked, winking at Rhea who in turn giggled lightly.

"We should be getting to class," Hermione said regretfully as she watched almost all the remaining students trickle out of the Great Hall. They all agreed and soon the group, minus Ginny, made their way to Muggle Studies first floor classroom. They seemed to be early as the classroom door was still locked. Or maybe they were some questionable form of late because, surprisingly enough, the Eighth Year Slytherins were already waiting at the door, every last one of them.

When their footfalls alerted the Slytherins to their presence, all four of them looked up. A particular blonde blanched and stepped forward, almost tripping over his own feet. Harry would have laughed if he weren't so concerned with both forming some sort of truce with the young Malfoy and worried about what could have possibly made the normally poised boy trip over himself.

"Miss Devonshire, please I'd like to apologize," Malfoy began and with those words alone, four Gryffindor jaws almost literally hit the floor. Still, Malfoy continued. "I know that nothing I can say can justify my family's actions and believe me, I don't want to justify them. Know that I don't share their opinions in the slightest and I'm deeply hurt the events that transpired."

"Can I ask you something?" Rhea wondered, her expression not betraying her thoughts in the slightest.

"Anything at all," Malfoy replied quickly.

"Did you have them under the Imperious Curse or something?"

"No, definitely not," Malfoy said, shaking his head.

"Did you ask them to do it?"

"No," Malfoy said again.

To everyone's great surprise, Rhea began laughing. "Then what the bloody hell are you apologizing for?"

"My family wronged you greatly," Malfoy insisted. "That responsibility rests on my shoulders as well."

"Pure-bloods," Rhea scoffed. "You're all stupid."

Again, no one knew quite what to say to that. Harry felt as though he'd just walked into the middle of some soap opera. What Rhea and Malfoy were going on about was anyone's guess, although he was apologizing for something so clearly Harry hadn't made the wrong choice in vouching for him... it seemed.

"Stop your blubbering," she sighed. "You are not responsible for people's actions because you share the same name. I don't forgive you. Why would I? You didn't do anything wrong. Well, not to me at least."

"So, you're not cross with me?" Malfoy asked hesitantly.

Rhea sighed. "Merlin, honestly! Pure-bloods equal stupid!"

Before another word could be uttered, the door to the Muggle Studies classroom opened and Professor Staples stood in doorframe, smiling brightly.

"Good morning class," he beamed. "Brand new year. Come on in."

The students entered Professor Staples's classroom hesitantly and took their seats cautiously. Neville slipped in at the last moment before the door magically swung shut. The seats were arranged in twos and so Neville at in the empty place next to Harry. Ron and Hermione were seated together, naturally, and Seamus had snagged the seat next to Rhea. Zabini and Parkinson sat nervously at one table while Malfoy and Nott sat at the other.

"Now then, on to our first lesson," Professor Staples said, clearing his throat. "I want you to copy down what's written on the board."

With a flourish of his wand, words appeared on the green chalkboard and he proudly read them aloud. "Blood status is stupid."

"Are you serious?" Parkinson asked timidly, not wanting to be expelled but obviously having trouble countering the ideals she'd been fed since childhood, even in writing.

"Quite," Professor Staples replied, nodding in satisfaction. Parkinson too nodded slowly before placing the tip of her quill to the parchment in front of her and copying.

"What did Malfoy's family do, if you don't mind me asking?" Harry heard Seamus ask Rhea from where the Irishman sat behind him. "I've never seen the Slytherin Prince so ruffled."

"His father and his aunt killed my parents," she said calmly. "No big deal, really."

Harry nearly choked on... he wasn't sure what – air maybe? Well, if this wasn't going to be an interesting year.


	3. Thruths

**Yay, chapter update. Here you are, enjoy. And sorry last chapter for sounding bitchy about reviews. I'm grateful to everyone who favourites and follows too. Thank you to everyone. **

**Chapter 3**

**Truths **

"Professor Staples is certainly quite unique," Hermione said slowly as she and Rhea sat in the Gryffindor Common Room doing Arithmancy homework. School had been in session for just over two weeks and Rhea was fitting in quite well with the Gryffindors. "You said he was a friend of your parents?"

"You basically want to know if Kennedy, like, raised me or something because we're practically the same person," Rhea observed. Hermione blushed but nodded.

"He's my godfather," she said, scribbling something down on the parchment in front of her. "Part of the reason Hogwarts seemed like a reasonable place to finish my studies. They needed a Muggle Studies professor and you can't find a bigger Muggle enthusiast than Kennedy."

"I don't know about that," Hermione giggled. "Ron's father is fascinated."

"Oh, I'm sure he is, but I doubt he understands the Muggle culture quite like Kennedy does," Rhea said. "Most Pure-bloods, even with the most open of minds, get completely lost when trying to understand Muggle cultures. My dad was a Half-blood so he explained a lot of the finer points that most witches and wizards miss."

"He is quite well-informed," Hermione assessed.

"You're Muggle-born aren't you?" Rhea asked, but it wasn't really a question because she didn't wait for an answer. "Muggle Studies must be the most boring and occasionally offensive subject you've ever had to take."

Hermione nodded. "Arithmancy more than makes up for it though."

The two girls worked in silence for another hour until all their homework was complete. Rhea yawned and stretched out from her position on the floor. Her school shirt began to ride up and she instantly tugged it down, keeping her hands at her sides a moment longer than necessary. Hermione noticed that the ebony seemed uncomfortable and so she struck up conversation once more.

"Did you live in the Muggle world?" she wondered.

"Yeah," Rhea replied. "I much prefer it. Don't get me wrong, I like magic, but there's so much prejudice in the Wizarding world. Sometimes Muggles make witches and wizards look like barbarians."

"I agree," Hermione said speculatively. "But I don't know, I'll probably end up living in the Wizarding world. Ron's a Pureblood. He'd be very lost if I tried to drag him into the Muggle world headlong."

Rhea had to laugh at that. "I must say, the Weasleys are the only Pure-blood family that go against my theory that all Pure-bloods are stupid. And Kennedy of course."

"I concur," Hermione laughed. Before the girls could continue their conversation, Seamus burst through the portrait hole.

"Seamus, are you alright?" Hermione asked, jumping to her feet and reaching the Irishman's side in seconds, Rhea right behind her.

"Oh feah, I'm yine," Seamus slurred. Shaking his head, he tried again. "Yeah, I'm fine."

Noticing the swelling near his jaw, Hermione pulled his Gryffindor scarf off and gasped as she relieved angry red welts peppering his neck.

"What happened?" she asked, her tone serious. "Do you need to see Madame Pomfrey?"

"I'm fine, Hermione," he insisted. "Stop fussing over me."

"I'll drag you to the infirmary if I must," she threatened.

"It was just a few stupid Slytherin Fifth Years," Seamus admitted reluctantly. "I should have been able to take them but they caught me off guard."

"We should get Headmistress McGonagall immediately," Hermione proposed.

"No, 'Mione, really," he protested. "It was just a stupid nothing. Kids being kids."

"Slytherin kids," she amended.

"Merlin, you're worse than Ron," Seamus whined. That shut Hermione up rather quickly. She gaped at him, indignant.

"He's got a point," Rhea said softly. "You should head upstairs or something to cool off. I'll look after Mr. Finnigan here."

Hermione nodded hesitantly before taking the stairs up to the girls' dormitory. Rhea and Seamus were the only two left in the common room and the silence weighed heavy on the pair.

"Shirt off," Rhea instructed.

"What?" Seamus sputtered.

"I'm not stupid," she sighed. "Your injuries don't stop at your collar, not with the hexes it appears your assailants used. So, off with it."

Sighing, Seamus unbuttoned his school shirt and took it off, letting Rhea see the full extent of the damage. Red welts like the ones on his neck littered his chest and back. Instead of cringing, the ebony-haired girl simply sighed and withdrew her wand.

"So," she began conversationally. "Now that Mother Hen Hermione's not around, care to tell me why you were attacked by a group of Fifth Year Slytherins?"

"Like I said, it was nothing," Seamus said, trying to brushing her off but Rhea wasn't about to let it go.

"Not stupid, remember?" she scoffed. "Don't lie to me."

"Right, it was something but I'd rather not get into it," he admitted.

"And I'd rather have parents but we don't always get what we want," Rhea sighed.

"Do you play the pity card often?" Seamus asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"Darn, saw right through that one didn't you," she smirked.

"It surprises me how cool you are about loosing your folks," he said after a moment of silence as Rhea worked on his injuries.

"A lot of innocents died in the war," she said slowly. "My parents, on the other hand, went asking for it. They were part of a resistance that got just a little bit too powerful for Voldemort's liking."

"I see," Seamus said, nodding.

"A truth for a truth?" Rhea requested, still trying to pry what had happened out of her Irish friend.

"They just don't like me," he muttered. "Does that constitute a truth?"

"Why though?" she pressed, healing that last welt and retuning her wand to her pocket.

"I don't want to talk about it, Rhea," he scowled. "Haven't I made that perfectly clear?"

"Yeah, I'm just choosing to ignore you," Rhea said. She placed a comforting hand on Seamus' shoulder and he looked up into her turquoise eyes. "I'd say we're friends. That's my opinion, anyway. And friends tell each other stuff. If you're having a rough go, talk to me."

"You really want to know?" Seamus wondered, looking at her seriously.

"I really want to know," she insisted.

"Fine," Seamus sighed. He squared his shoulders and readied himself to tell her everything. "You know, my best mate Dean and I fought together during the Battle of Hogwarts. After, when it was over and we'd won we sort of kissed and they sort of saw."

Seamus was blushing and staring at his feet but he could feel Rhea's hand trembling on his shoulder. He was about to speak again when Rhea finally spoke.

"That was it?" she snapped. "Those stupid snakes hexed you to bits because you're gay? So what?"

"I'm glad to see you're taking my side in all this, but Rhea, if you don't let go of my shoulder you're going to crush it," Seamus breathed. The furious girl gasped and took her hand from his shoulder, hissing as she saw the crescent-shaped cuts her nails had made.

"Sorry," she apologized. "Angry."

"I couldn't tell," Seamus mutter sarcastically. Rhea laughed and pulled Seamus onto the nearest sofa, sitting him down and laying her head in his lap. He hesitantly placed a hand on her head and stroked her hair.

"What are you doing?" he wondered as Rhea squirmed, making herself more comfortable.

"A truth for a truth," she replied. "I thought we'd agreed on that. We're friends and that means we tell each other stuff. You were nice and forthcoming, so now I guess it's my turn. Want to hear my story?"

Seamus nodded slowly and so Rhea began the tale of how her parents met and how they'd fallen in love and how they'd come to die at the hands of Lucius Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange. By the time the two tired Gryffindors made their way to bed, neither had a secret to their name.


	4. Genius Idea

**Here's the next chapter. Pretty please review guys? And what do you think if I start updating Saturday instead of Friday?**

**Chapter 4**

**Genius Idea**

Another week went by and September was drawing to a close. Harry sat with Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Neville at breakfast. They had arrived not long ago but Harry was staring to notice that every day, Rhea and Seamus seemed to be last to arrive and they always arrived together. Harry decided he would say as much.

"Does anyone notice that Rhea and Seamus seem to be spending a lot of time together?" he asked.

"Rhea and _I_ spend a lot of time together," Hermione pointed out, sighing at Harry's suspicious thought process.

"Yeah, but you take Arithmancy and Ancient Runes together," Ron said, mouthing something that looked something like _barking mad_. "You think they might be, _you know_?" he asked Harry.

"I don't know, maybe," Harry shrugged, taking a bite of egg. Before they could speculate further, the objects of their musing arrived at the Gryffindor table and took their seats.

"Morning," Seamus greeted, pulling food onto his plate. He was answered with a chorus of _good morning_s. Rhea picked up a piece of toast and began nibbling on it dry.

"Did you manage to do the Arithmancy problems we were given?" Hermione asked Rhea and she nodded. "Good, me too."

"Gryffindor's got a Quidditch match against Hufflepuff this weekend," Ginny said. "Is anyone going to watch?"

"You're playing, Gin. Of course I'm going," Harry said, squeezing the hand he had placed on her knee.

"What about you, Rhea?" Ginny wondered. Where at first the dark-haired girl had come across as a possible boyfriend-stealer, Ginny found that she really liked her quiet, no-nonsense personality.

"I'm not really a Quidditch fan," she mumbled. Seamus' eyes nearly bugged out of his head upon hearing as much.

"That simply won't due," he said, looping an arm around her neck. "You're going Saturday, even if I have to drag you there myself."

"I suppose I have no choice," Rhea mumbled, but not in genuine frustration. Seamus chuckled, self-satisfied, and dropped his arm from Rhea's side allowing the pair to finish breakfast before they rushed off to class. Once again, they had Muggle Studies with the Slytherins.

When Professor Staples opened the doors to his class, he requested that the students not take their seats. Confused, they stood at the back of the class and waited for him to continue.

"I realize that we have Half-Bloods and Muggle-borns in this classroom who are quite familiar with the Muggle world, therefore making most of my lessons useless to you. I thought that it would be a good idea to change the seating so that someone with Muggle knowledge already could be seated with someone less knowledgeable."

The class looked at him, unsure, but Professor Staples was quite convinced that this was a genius idea. He picked up a hat from his desk and walked over to the small cluster of students.

"Inside this hat are the names of the students who are less aware of Muggle culture. I'll ask you to pull a name and take a desk with your new partner," Staples instructed. He held out the hat to Hermione. "Miss Granger?"

Hermione hesitantly put her hand in and pulled out a piece of parchment. "Theodore Nott," she read. Reluctantly, she grabbed her bag and joined Nott at a desk.

Next, Professor Staples offered the bag to Seamus who quickly took a piece of parchment and read, "Blaise Zabini." Much like Hermione, he begrudgingly took a seat beside the dark skinned Slytherin.

Professor Staples offered the bag to Rhea and she reached inside. Catching hold of a small piece of parchment, she unfolded it delicately. "Draco Malfoy," she announced, not showing any reluctance, unlike the others. Harry wasn't sure whether to be glad he wouldn't be stuck with Malfoy or worried that Rhea sitting with the son of her parents' killer could royally blow up.

"And Harry," Professor Staples said, holding the bag out for Harry. There was only one piece of parchment left inside and when Harry read it, he was unsurprised. "Pansy Parkinson," he mumbled, dragging his bag to a seat, making Parkinson join him.

"I thought because neither of you boys are completely uninformed about Muggles, the two of you would work well together," Professor Staples told Ron and Neville. The boys nodded, not about to argue and get placed with a Slytherin instead.

"Now then, today's lesson will look at the war Muggles refer to as World War Two. It draws some excellent parallels with the Second Wizarding War," Staples explained, taking a seat at his desk. "Each group is to submit a paragraph about the Nazi ideals and how they mirror those of Lord Voldemort."

Harry almost blanched at Professor Staples' instructions and how he had given them so freely, not caring that he was in a room with Slytherins and that that was clearly not a good idea. Taking a look beside him, Harry noticed that Parkinson seemed very uncomfortable, shifting in her seat and keeping her eyes downcast.

"Right then, let's get started," Harry muttered, opening his textbook to the page Professor Staples had indicated on the board. Parkinson opened her book as well and the two read in silence.

Over at Rhea and Malfoy's table, things were also quiet. Multiple times, Rhea tried to get the blonde's attention but to no avail. Malfoy seemed unwaveringly interested in his reading, but the odd twitch betrayed the image of calm he was trying to project.

Rhea sighed. "Would you stop that?"

Malfoy looked up at her slowly. "Stop what?"

"Avoiding me," she said. "We're supposed to be partners but you won't even look at me. Keep acting like that and someone might get the idea that you have a problem with my blood status."

"No, I don't," Malfoy insisted. "I swear it."

"Then stop acting so standoffish," Rhea sighed, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "It's driving me mental."

"Right," he said, nodding. "Sorry."

"That's quite alright," she replied, inking her quill and writing _Comparison of World War Two to the Second Wizarding War _at the top of her page.

"You know Devonshire, you're being really nice to me," Malfoy murmured after a moment of reading in silence.

"You can call me Rhea," she offered. He nodded and so she proceeded to answer his unasked question of why. "You know about my family's... quirk, shall we call it? Anyway, you know about my situation and you're still apologizing to me. Obviously you're not the root of all evil and I think I ought to give you a chance."

"Just because I'm not the root of all evil doesn't mean I didn't do some exceptionally evil things," he whispered, clenching his fist around his quill.

"You know what, if you want to live in this little bubble of self-pity you've built around yourself, that's really quite fine with me," she snapped. "But if you actually want to make things right, maybe you should stop reflecting on all the bad things you've done and do something good instead. You'd be surprised what a good attitude can make up for, Malfoy."

"Right, you're right," he said. "And you can call me Draco... if you want."

"Draco," Rhea said experimentally. She nodded curtly and returned her attention to her textbook.

The class was silent until they neared the last ten minutes and Professor Staples rose from his seat. He stood at the front of the classroom and cleared his throat noisily, causing the students to look up from their pages.

"Change of plans," Professor Staples announced in a tone that suggested his plans hadn't changed at all and he'd planned this all from the beginning. "Would everyone please take a chair and form a circle at the back of the classroom."

Hesitantly, the students took their chairs and formed a sort of lopsided circle. Professor Staples levitated his chair and took a spot among them between Ron and Harry.

"Instead of looking at your paragraphs, I'd like to use what we learned today as a topic for discussion," he said tapping his wand on the tips of his fingers. "Does anyone want to start?"

"War is bad," Neville muttered after a moment of complete silence.

"Genius observation, Longbottom," Zabini chuckled causing Neville to blush and hang his head even more so than it already was.

"Now Blaise, Neville's right," Professor Staples said. "And we're not going to get anywhere if you keep making sarcastic, potentially hurtful comments."

"Maybe we wouldn't be so sarcastic if we weren't stuck in a room with a bunch of insufferable Gryffindors," Parkinson scowled. Harry felt an all-consuming urge to hit her but managed to control himself.

"No, _we_ would be more open if we weren't stuck with a bunch of snakes," Ron spat. "Bunch of Slytherin cowards."

"Ronald," Hermione snapped.

"Look, I think we're getting off to a bad start," Nott said, brining his hands up and holding his palms out in a gesture of surrender.

"Whatever gave you that idea?" Hermione sighed sarcastically.

"No, this is good," Professor Staples said. "Not exactly Muggle Studies, but good nonetheless. Hatred is bread from lack of understanding. Many Muggle leaders that believe in equality believe that conflicts should be resolved with words. Nelson Mandela, Martin Luther King Jr., Mother Teresa. They are all examples of great Muggle peacemakers. They understood the need to resolve differences."

"These are the kind of differences that aren't so easily resolved," Harry said regretfully. "The war is really beside the point. We have such different personalities. I don't think we could ever be friends."

"You know, I myself went to Hogwarts as a child," Professor Staples said. "I was a Hufflepuff."

"Big surprise there," Parkinson muttered but Professor Staples continued.

"One of my best friends was a Gryffindor," he said. That appeared to be it because he nodded and looked to the students for a reaction.

"That's not such a stretch, Professor," Neville said timidly. "I myself am friends with a Hufflepuff. We're a lot alike."

"Right," Professor Staples said, nodding. "But we also had a friend in Slytherin."

"A Slytherin that was friends with a Gryffindor _and_ a Hufflepuff?" Zabini questioned. "I have a hard time believing that."

"Don't believe it if you don't want to, but we made a good team," Staples said. "Of course, we were at odds with pretty much every other Slytherin, but that's not the point. Inter-House friendships are possible, even if they seem unlikely."

"Do you still keep in touch with them?" Ron asked curiously.

"We stayed close up until the war," Professor Staples said solemnly. "They both died at the hands of Death Eaters."

Ron gaped for a moment before hanging his head in embarrassment. "Sorry. I didn't realize. Stupid question."

"It's no matter," Professor Staples sighed, putting on his most reassuring smile.

"So you're saying that Gryffindors and Slytherins can potentially be the best of friends?" Hermione asked sceptically.

"Why not?" Staples asked. "If Muggles can forgive one another and learn to live in peace after all the wars they've fought, why can't we wizards if we're as superior as some claim?"

Before they could discuss things any further, a small dining Muggle contraption on Professor Staples' desk indicated the end of class. The students packed their bags and headed towards the door hurriedly.

"Hey Draco," Rhea called to the blond just ahead of her. He turned to face her and she smirked. "Saturday's the Quidditch match but what do you say Sunday we go into Hogsmeade?"

"You're not really asking, are you?" Draco drawled, raising an eyebrow.

"No, no I'm not," Rhea chuckled. "Meet me by the doors at ten sharp."

Sighing, Draco slung his bag over his shoulder and exited the classroom, not bothering to argue with the dark-haired girl. Besides, a trip into Hogsmeade with a beautiful girl could be a good thing even if said girl had her share of... quirks.


	5. Hogsmeade

**Here you are, yet another chapter. Reviews are much appreciated so do leave one, won't you please. **

**Chapter 5**

**Hogsmeade **

Gryffindor won the Quidditch match on Saturday. No one was enormously surprised, but since the war, it mattered less and less which House was the best. Still, Gryffindor had thrown the party to end all parties and so every last Gryffindor had packed themselves into the Common Room. Harry had spent the whole party with Ginny on his arm. He couldn't complain; Ginny was a very beautiful girl and her Quidditch skills were almost unmatchable. They made a good couple – a golden couple.

Sunday, the students who were old enough enthusiastically flocked to Hogsmeade. Rhea broke out in a small smile as she approached the castle doors and saw Draco standing nervously, shifting from foot to foot and trying to appear calm and aloof.

"Good morning, Draco," the Gryffindor greeted. Upon seeing her, Draco let out a breath and smiled.

"It's ten-oh-one Miss Devonshire," he teased. "What happened to being on time?"

"Ever hear of being fashionably late?" she replied. When he shot her a look, she laughed. "Ginny and I were talking over breakfast and we lost track of time. She's quite interesting, really."

"I wouldn't know," Draco said, shrugging. The pair left the castle behind them and began their walk to Hogsmeade.

"You could, you know," Rhea said after a moment. "I don't think anyone really dislikes you anymore. It's more that they don't know you and are left only with their preconceived notions of the person you were."

"Trust me, there's still the odd person," Draco chuckled humourlessly.

Rhea frowned. "Well, maybe Ron, but that's just because he's headstrong. He's got to warm up to things, or so Hermione tells me."

"I don't think Potter would be particularly thrilled if I tried to make nice with the Gryffindors," he said quietly.

"Harry?" she asked, quirking an eyebrow. "What would give you that idea?"

"Saviour of the Wizarding Word," he stated. He then pointed to himself and said, "former Death Eater. I'm sure the Golden Boy would be thrilled to welcome me into his life."

"This is just my impression," Rhea began. "But it seems to me that he wants to make up, like for real and not just to be civil."

"You haven't known him as long as have," Draco sighed.

"I beg to differ," she said. "You don't know Harry any more than I do. You've been stuck in this petty squabbling since you're both eleven. You don't know Harry Potter at all. You know the monster you've made him out be."

"I suppose," he admitted sheepishly.

"There's no shame in it," the Gryffindor assured him. "That's what we do as people. We constantly idolize and vilify the others in our lives to favour our own sanity. We build people up and tear them down in a way they can never live up to."

"You're quite wise," the Slytherin said thoughtfully.

Rhea chuckled and blushed. "It happens when you face adversity most of your life."

"Or you turn into a coward," Draco mumbled disparagingly.

"Or that," the black-haired girl agreed. The blonde shot her a look and she quirked an eyebrow back at him. "What, you were expecting me to argue with you?"

"A lesser witch would have," he said.

"Well, I'm not a lesser witch and I won't absolve you of everything you've ever done because you're feeling guilty. It's about actions, Draco."

"I understand that," Draco sighed. Rhea could tell he wanted to say something more so she looked at him expectantly. After a few moments, he gave in. "Potter frightens me. There, I've said it. Don't laugh."

"It's not particularly funny," Rhea said. "It's honest and I appreciate that. What about Harry frightens you?"

"He destroyed the Dark Lord," Draco exclaimed, expression perplexed. "What if I slip up and say something rude and he kills me?"

"That's not the worst case scenario that has you panicking," Rhea said plainly.

Draco sighed. "What if he gets to know the real me and regrets saving me?" he asked quietly, eyes downcast.

"Not going to happen," she said without a doubt. "I can't guarantee you'll be best mates, maybe there's too much history for that, but I can say that he won't hate you. You're quite pleasant to spend time with, actually, when you aren't running your mouth off about blood status and other things equally as daft."

Draco didn't make a move to speak and Rhea let him stay quiet. She could almost hear the metaphorical gears in his head grinding away as he lost himself in thought. When they arrived at Hogsmeade, the pair grabbed a booth at the Hog's Head and ordered a butterbeer each. They sipped their drinks for a while in silence.

"I was wrong," Draco said quietly, catching Rhea off guard.

"What's that?" she asked, looking for him to clarify.

"I was wrong about Muggle-borns," he whispered, leaning down and taking another sip of butterbeer.

"Yes you were," Rhea said, nodding slowly. "But unlike most, you're willing to admit it."

"To you," Draco said quickly. "Thing is, I'm still a lot more concerned of what others think of me than I'd like to be. It's been drilled into my head since I'm young to never be wrong. Admitting I was wrong goes against everything I've ever known."

"Don't be such a Drama Queen," Rhea scoffed, shaking her head. Draco's eyes nearly bugged out of his head and Rhea laughed heartily.

"Muggle expression I'm guessing?" Draco wondered, eyebrow rising. Rhea nodded and laughed even harder. Draco laughed along with her after a moment and the two continued until they were out of breath and their sides hurt.

"What is it you like so much about Muggles?" Draco asked once the two had calmed. He was merely curious, no traces of distaste in his voice.

"The people who detain the positions of power aren't narrow-minded. Not for the most part, at least. The Wizarding world is still very much focused on blood status and image. Maybe things will start getting better now that Voldemort's gone, but I don't know."

"I suppose that makes sense," Draco said, nodding. "As a Pure-blood I don't really understand what it's like to be on the other end of things."

"It's not pleasant, in case you're wondering," Rhea sighed, finishing her butterbeer off. Draco took the last gulp of his as well and the pair exited the Hog's Head. They walked down the streets peacefully, saying nothing. They spotted Neville and Hannah coming out of Madam Puddifoot's. Just outside Honeydukes, the pair ran into Harry, Ginny, Ron and Hermione.

"Hey," Rhea greeted, smiling at the group. They smiled and greeted her in return.

"Hey Malfoy," Harry greeted, attempting civility.

"Hello Potter," Draco replied, keeping his eyes downcast. "Granger. Weasleys."

The three greeted him as well. An uncomfortable silence fell upon the group and Ron scuffled his feet noisily.

"Hey, Harry, did you say you wanted to head over to Zonko's?" he asked rather tensely.

"Uh, yeah," Harry murmured.

"You boys go on ahead," Ginny said. "That silly joke shop doesn't interest me or Hermione."

"Right, we'll meet up at the Three Broomsticks," Harry said, leaning in and quickly kissing Ginny goodbye. Ron muttered a quick goodbye before leaning in and kissing Hermione as well. The two boys headed off to Zonko's leaving the four alone.

"What have you been up to all day?" Hermione asked conversationally, not being overly polite but not being cold either.

"We were at the Hog's Head having a butterbeer," Rhea replied.

"That's too bad," Ginny sighed. "I don't suppose you'd be interested in having another with us at the Three Broomsticks?"

"Is that alright, Draco?" Rhea asked and the blond nodded.

"It'd be a pleasure," he said.

The four teens walked together to the Three Broomsticks engrossed in the conversation that Hermione had started. Rhea couldn't help but marvel at her unfailing ability of making small talk. When they arrived, they grabbed seats at a rather large table. After ordering their drinks, Hermione struck up conversation once again. Draco shared Rhea and Hermione's Arithmancy class and the trio began discussing the subject adamantly, a very confused Ginny listening in and nodding occasionally.

They hadn't been talking long when the bell over the door rang and the group looked over at the trio of Slytherins that had just entered the pub. Theodore Nott, Blaise Zabini and Pansy Parkinson hovered in the doorway, looking unsure and definitely not their usual astute, Pure-blooded selves. Nott spotted his fellow Slytherin among the Gryffindors and smiled at him awkwardly. Zabini and Parkinson nodded in greeting.

"Would you like to join us?" Ginny asked, pulling back the empty chair beside her in offering. Parkinson and Zabini looked ready to protest but Nott spoke before they had a chance.

"That would be quite nice, thank you."

Awkwardly, Zabini and Parkinson took two empty seats between Draco and Hermione while Nott sat in the seat next to Ginny.

"Where are Potter and Weasley?" Zabini asked after a moment of silence.

"Zonko's," Hermione replied. "They'll be along in a minute."

It became uncomfortably quiet once again before Ginny turned to Nott and attempted to start a conversation. "How are you enjoying your classes?" she asked.

Nott's brow creased as he carefully thought about his answer. "Rather well," he said finally. "Potions would be more enjoyable if Slughorn wasn't so prejudiced, however."

Hermione scoffed into her butterbeer, trying to be discreet. Nott heard her anyway.

"Poor choice of words," he said. "My apologies."

"I know what you're on about," Ginny said, tracing the rim of her mug with her index finger. "Slughorn's always unduly harsh with students whose parents were in league with... yeah." The sentence trailed off awkwardly and Ginny stared hard at her drink.

"What does everyone think of the new Professors?" Hermione asked, changing the subject.

"I rather enjoy Professor Staples and his class," Nott said in a tone that made it seem like he was sharing a secret. Being as he was a Pure-blood and his father had been a Death Eater, it probably seemed that way to him.

"I like him too," Draco said, nodding.

"He's Rhea's godfather, you know," Hermione said before thinking over whether Rhea wanted it to be public knowledge or not. The dark-haired girl didn't seem upset at all so Hermione reckoned it was fine.

"Is he really?" Blaise asked, intrigued.

Rhea simply nodded and took a drink from her mug.

"You're a lot alike," Parkinson remarked and surprisingly, there was no hint of malice in her voice.

"He was very good friends with my parents," she explained. "He raised me almost as much as they did."

"Were your parents the friends Professor Staples was talking about Monday?" Blaise asked, seemingly unaware that he was entering dangerous territory bringing up the subject of murdered family members in a room full of people who had been on opposing sides of the war.

"My father was the Gryffindor," she said quietly. "My mother didn't attend Hogwarts however."

"I see," Blaise said.

"What about Professor Fletcher?" Nott asked suddenly, not-so-subtly changing the subject. Or maybe he was just a very random individual. None of the Gryffindors really knew much about him.

"I don't like him," Ginny said, turning her nose in the air.

"Finally, someone who agrees," Nott exclaimed, smiling brightly. "Those two" – a quick jab of the thumb towards Zabini and Parkinson – "think he's great."

"Are you sure it's not because he's an attractive male, Pansy?" Draco teased. The group chuckled slightly, the Slytherins especially but Parkinson simply rolled her eyes.

"He's attractive, is he, Draco?" Zabini ribbed. A faint blush crept up the blond's cheeks.

"That's not what I said," he protested feebly.

"He's only retaliating for your jab at Pansy, Draco. Relax," Nott chuckled.

"So what is it you don't like about Fletcher?"Ginny asked Nott, finding it hard to follow the Slytherin banter when she was so curious.

"He's a bit arrogant, don't you find?" Nott asked and Ginny nodded.

"He doesn't seem to like you at all, Rhea," Hermione remarked.

Rhea laughed softly. "He and my father were old school enemies," she said. "He's a prick."

The group laughed heartily at Rhea's straightforwardness.

"Which explains perfectly why Zabini and Parkinson are so fond of him," Hermione joked. There was a moment of awkward silence in which Hermione was worried she'd taken things too far, but in an instant, they all broke out in a fit of giggles.

"Bloody hell," whispered a voice from behind them.

"I feel like I've just entered the Twilight Zone," said another voice. The group looked over to see Harry and Ron who had obviously just come into the pub though no one had hear them.

"Hello, Love," Ginny greeted. Harry leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on her cheek. "Pull up a chair," she requested and he did. Ron too drug over a seat and placed it squarely between Hermione and Zabini. The ginger had a scowl fixed on his face and it instantly dampened the mood.

"Pansy and I need to be off," Zabini announced, getting to his feet. Parkinson stood as well, arranging her blouse self-consciously.

"Are you coming, Theo?" Parkinson asked the Slytherin seated next to Ginny. He looked torn for a moment, clearly enjoying the company more than his friends. After a moment, he nodded solemnly and rose from his seat.

"Thank you for extending the invitation to sit with you," Nott said, his eyes fixed on Ginny. "It was greatly appreciated."

"You're most welcome," the redhead smirked, a light blush colouring her cheeks.

"We'll see you back at the dorms, Draco?" Nott asked and Draco nodded. With one last glance at the table, Nott followed Zabini and Parkinson outside.

"Why were you sitting with Slytherins?" Ron asked, his nose curling up in distaste. Hermione shot him a glare but he simply sighed, not wanting to get into it with her.

"I rather enjoyed their company," Ginny huffed, giving her brother an angry stare.

"They seemed alright to me," Rhea agreed. Ron huffed, unimpressed, but again said nothing.

"You don't know if Seamus planned on coming into Hogsmeade, do you?" Harry asked Rhea when the silence began to weigh heavy on the group.

"He mentioned staying in and finishing assignments," Rhea replied, her brow furrowing as she tried to remember if he'd said anything else. "Any particular reason?"

"No, I was just curious," Harry said, shrugging.

"The two of you sure seem to spend a lot of time together," Hermione pointed out, raising an eyebrow questioningly.

"May as well get it out of the way now," Rhea sighed. "We aren't dating."

"Not even a little?" Ginny asked, surprised. Harry too was taken aback by this revelation. He'd thought for sure Seamus and Rhea would make a lovely couple.

"I'm not actually sure what that means, but no, not even a little," Rhea chuckled.

"You don't fancy the pants off each other?" Ron asked, clearly as surprised as everyone else.

"We're not interested in one another, no," Rhea answered, blushing slightly.

"You're blushing," Ron accused.

"Because you're lewd," Hermione sighed. Harry laughed and took a sip of the butterbeer he'd gotten himself.

"So there's nothing going on between you and Seamus then?" Ginny asked one last time.

"No."

They were quiet for a moment as the four Gryffindors mulled over this new information and the Slytherin remained respectfully silent.

"Are you and Malfoy dating?" Ron asked rather suddenly, causing multiple people to choke on their mouthfuls of butterbeer.

"Also no," Rhea said, blushing so red she looked akin to a tomato. Draco's cheeks were also lightly flushed.

Ron nodded thoughtfully and took a long sip of his butterbeer. Merlin only knew what was going on in his head. He seemed overall pleased with Rhea's response to his question, so the group of Hogwarts students decided to leave him be.

When Rhea and Draco finished their butterbeers, they excused themselves from the two couples and made their way back to Hogwarts.

"That didn't go disastrously at all," Rhea said, happy with their outing's outcome.

"It did go rather well, at least until Weasley showed up," Draco agreed.

"Just remember what Hermione told me," Rhea instructed. "Ron Weasley is as stubborn as an ox. He needs time."

"And he'll get it too," Draco said, squaring his shoulders. "We're about to forge a very odd, unheard of inter-House friendship, Miss Devonshire."

"Brilliant," Rhea said. She and Draco parted then, the blond making his way to the dungeons while the ebony-haired girl headed off to Gryffindor Tower.


	6. Nymphs

**Yay, it's another chapter :D Please leave a review when you're done reading. Tell me what you think. I appreciate constructive criticism. I can't tell you how disheartening it is to not get feedback on a project you've put so much time and energy into. So, on that note, I'd like to thank **_**LovelyDarkPearl, VampireAngelBec **_**and **_**ElberethGilthoniel**_** for their review. You guys rock my socks. **

**Chapter 6**

**Nymphs **

"It's odd being the only girl left," Hermione muttered Sunday night as she and Rhea settled into bed in the dorm room they shared.

"What's that?" Rhea asked. She hadn't really been paying much attention to her roommate and so the random musing threw her.

"I'm the only girl that's come back," Hermione clarified. "It's odd. I feel like Lavender and Parvati are going to come bursting through the door at any moment, going on about something having to do with divination."

"You miss them?" Rhea asked hesitantly.

"Yeah," Hermione mumbled. "We weren't ever particularly close but I suppose I do. I don't think I'd miss them this much if it weren't for the circumstances. Does that make me a bad person?"

"No," Rhea replied. "Lavender passed away, after all. It's not like you'll run into her one day and be able to catch up."

"That's it exactly," Hermione agreed, rubbing her eyes tiredly. "I'm sorry for dumping that on you. This may sound ridiculous, but I feel like I can trust you with anything."

"You can," Rhea assured her. "I'm quite fond of you, Hermione Granger."

"That's good," Hermione laughed sleepily. She turned onto her side and flicked her wand, the lights in the dormitory extinguishing themselves. "I'm rather fond of you too, Rhea Devonshire. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

The next morning, the girls awoke early. They each took their time showering and getting ready. When they were through, they made their way down to the Common Room where Seamus, Harry and Ron were waiting for them.

"You're certainly up early," Hermione remarked after Ron had given her a quick kiss.

"I know," Ron laughed. "I was actually ready before you. I think it's a first."

"Definitely," Harry agreed. It was then that Ginny descended the stairs from the girls' dormitories. She walked over to Harry's side and he diligently kissed her cheek. She took his hand and smiled, though Harry noticed she seemed almost distracted.

"Good morning," Harry said.

"Morning," she said back. "Are we going to head down? I'm starving."

Harry nodded and the six Gryffindors made their way down to the Great Hall. As always, Ron piled his plate grotesquely high with assorted breakfast foods while the five others idly discussed their lessons. The rest of the day passed much the same – that is uneventfully – until their last class; Defence Against the Dark Arts with the Slytherins.

Professor Fletcher was in a shockingly bad mood, an even bigger frown than usual adorning his hard face. He curtly instructed them to open to the page 178 of their textbook _52 Illusive Magical Beings_. Harry and Ron, who sat next to one another with Rhea and Hermione behind them, both took in a sharp breath seeing the image on the page. The photo was that was of a tall woman, back hunched and sharp teeth bared menacingly. Her nails were long, black and talon-like and her eyes glowed yellow. Long, black hair fell in waves down her back so pale it was almost blue. All across her back and arms were strange, black, spirally markings that resembled an ancient script of some sort. Under the photo was the caption _Angered Nymph_.

"The Nymph," Professor Fletcher began. "One of the rarest and possibly most deadly creatures in the magical world. Muggle lore would have them be fair young maidens who were allied with gods and goddesses but falser words have never been spoken."

Harry felt a shiver run up his spine as he looked once more at the picture of the snarling Nymph.

"Miss Devonshire, would you care to read the first paragraph aloud?" Professor Fletcher requested, a smug smile plastered on his face. Rhea bristled but picked up her book nonetheless.

"Nymphs are magical creatures that are highly intuitive and perceptive. They can be both male and female, though females are most common among the species. Nymphs remain in human form unless angered, at witch point they grow long claws, sharp teeth and glowing eyes. Nymphs are always dark-haired with peculiar eye colours and strange, tribal markings. They are a very protective species and will often form packs with other Nymphs and non-Nymphs alike. It is assumed Nymphs will reproduce with wizards though due to their rarity, this has not been confirmed," Rhea read, her voice detached and expression unreadable.

"The next one too," Professor Fletcher encouraged, that smug smile ever-present.

Dutifully, Rhea cleared her throat and continued. "Nymphs have often been compared to Veelas and though they share certain traits, the two species are not related. Where Veelas are able to charm and compel members of the opposite sex, Nymphs are simply promiscuous and will indulge in sexual activities with either sex, going as far as to encourage homosexual encounters among non-Nymphs."

"When was this textbook written, the Dark Ages?" The room fell silent as everyone looked over, completely mystified, at Pansy Parkinson who was almost fuming in her seat beside Draco.

"Is Little Miss Pure-blood actually defending gays?" Ron quipped from his seat causing Hermione to glare daggers at the back of his head. "You're not worried that the Pure-blood line might die out?"

"Don't misunderstand me," Parkinson said curtly. "It is a Pure-blood's responsibility to breed more Pure-bloods. However, once they've fulfilled their Pure-blood duty, it seems quite ridiculous to have them stay with a partner that doesn't interest them."

"So what you're proposing is making relationships between Pure-bloods mere functionalities?" Hermione asked curiously, quirking an eyebrow.

"They've been mere functionalities for centuries now," Parkinson amended. "I'm simply suggesting we call a spade a spade and stop with all this marriage nonsense."

"Blimey," Ron gasped. "Did that actually just make sense, in some odd, twisted Slytherin way?"

"I'm smarter than most give me credit for," Parkinson said, nose turned up snobbishly.

"Honestly Professor, you don't believe this rubbish, do you?" Hermione questioned. It took Harry a moment to recover from the shock of having Hermione call a book rubbish.

"Some of it may sound old-fashioned," Professor Fletcher said. "But I assure you, it is not rubbish. Nymphs are dangerous and are to be stayed away from at all costs. I had a run-in with a one when I was just slightly younger than you."

Professor Fletcher pulled down his collar enough to reveal a set of scars in the shape of claws. "She almost took my head off."

"What'd you do to her first?" Hermione asked.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I've done reading on Nymphs before, Sir," Hermione said. "They only attack if provoked."

"I unwittingly upset a member of her pack," Professor Fletcher admitted reluctantly.

"Unwittingly," Harry murmured under his breath. "Why do I find that hard to believe?"

"You may be defending Nymphs now, but it's only because you've not seen what they're capable of," Professor Fletcher said, a dangerous tone in his voice. "Should you ever have the misfortune of meeting one, I'd stay as far away as possible. And as far as half-Nymphs are concerned, they do exist. The same Nymph who attacked me went on to marry a wizard and the two had a daughter. From what I've been able to gather, she's just as much a Nymph as her mother meaning she's equally as dangerous."

The rest of the lesson was awkward to say the least. Professor Fletcher explained how Nymphs forged packs. It was quite simple really, one little kiss during which the Nymph concentrated on making a connection was all it took. Professor Fletcher stressed repeatedly that once you part of a Nymph's pack, there was no turning back. Bonds formed with Nymphs were irrevocable and lasted until there was but one member of the pack left alive. There were several perks to being part of a pack such as mild empathy and telepathy between all members but Fletcher insisted that there were more pitfalls than positives to being bonded.

When the lesson finally ended, Professor Fletcher retreated to his office and students hastily shoved their books into their backpacks, glad the day was finally over. Nott trailed behind somewhat, dropping his quill repeatedly as he tried to stash it in his bag. Zabini laughed at him and was met with a glare.

"Do you need help with that," Zabini teased. Nott's books were still open on his desk though he finally managed to gain control over his quill.

"Go on ahead," Nott sighed. "I'll catch up with you in the Common Room."

Muttering their goodbyes, the three Slytherins left the classroom. When Nott was finally finished packing up, he was alone. Hastily, he flung his bag over his shoulder walked into the hallway. Going around a corner, he ran smack into someone sending them both to the floor, contents of their backpacks spilling out.

"I'm so sorry," Nott apologized, getting to his feet and extending a hand. Though the tendrils of long, red hair should have tipped him off, he was still somewhat surprised to see Ginny Weasley sprawled on the floor at his feet.

"It's quite alright," Ginny said, taking his extended hand and allowing him to pull her to her feet. "I wasn't looking where I was going."

"Me neither," Nott admitted. They both looked down at the mess on the floor and bent to pick up their belongings. Reaching for a textbook at the same time their hands brushed and they pulled apart immediately, both blushing faintly.

"That's yours," Ginny said, pointing towards the book. Nott nodded and returned it to his bag. They both moved to pick up their belongings once more and somehow managed to bang heads together rather hard.

"Sorry," the Slytherin and the Gryffindor said together, looking into one another's eyes and blushing furiously this time. They stayed there for a moment, both completely still until Ginny moved forward so their lips were almost touching. Nott's breath caught in his throat but before he could organize his thoughts, Ginny drew back with a scroll of parchment in her hand.

"Got it," she murmured, eyes dancing. She slowly placed the parchment in her bag and got to her feet. Nott realized then that all of the redhead's belongings had been reclaimed and he hastily grabbed his quill, stuffing it in his bag and getting to his feet as well.

"Sorry about that," he apologized, thought whether it was for knocking the Gryffindor over or almost kissing her, her wasn't sure.

"Yeah me too," she said, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "I'll see you around, Nott."

Impulsively, he said, "you can call me Theo."

The redhead felt herself blushing and nodded quickly. "You can call me Ginny."

"Bye, Ginny," Theo said experimentally.

"Goodbye, Theo," Ginny smiled before clutching her bag tightly and walking down the hallway. Theo too smiled before making his way to the Slytherin dorms.


	7. Discoveries

**Haha, look, I'm updating a day early. Aren't you proud of me? Here you are. Enjoy and pretty please leave reviews. I'm getting a bunch of hits and that certainly does tickle me pink, but review are even better. **

**Chapter 7**

**Discoveries **

Hermione sighed as she walked down to the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. In her haste to escape Professor Fletcher, she'd carelessly left her textbook in class. Berating herself one last time, she arrived in front of the classroom door only to find it closed. She was about to try the handle when she heard low murmurs coming from inside. Hermione knew it was wrong to listen in on others' conversations but her curiosity got the best of her and with a wave of her wand, the poorly cast _Muffliato_ was removed.

"You're a right prat," Hermione heard a man snap from inside. "Honestly, the nerve of you! Had she gone to Minerva instead of me you'd be fired."

"You won't get Minerva involved," Professor Fletcher rebuked. "You don't have the nerve."

"I fought against over a dozen Death Eaters and watched three of my friends loose their lives because of people like you," sneered the man. "Don't call me a coward. You're the coward, needing to go off about Nymphs like that. Did you get a rise out of it, Fletcher?"

"Don't give me trouble for doing my job, Staples," Professor Fletcher sneered back.

"Nymphs aren't part of the curriculum," Professor Staples yelled.

"No, but they should be," Fletcher growled. "Those students need to be warned of the dangers."

"This is not about the students! This is about your inability to accept difference. Rinette wasn't dangerous. You were a bloody arsehole. Had she been a witch she'd have pulled her wand on you and cursed you three ways from Sunday after all you'd done to Pierre."

"Rinette may have scarred me but she got hers," Professor Fletcher said. "Pierre and Nathan too."

"They were heroes," Professor Staples hollered. "Say another word against them and you'll regret it."

"Are you threatening me?" Fletcher laughed. "Is the little Hufflepuff finally growing a backbone?"

"I'm not the same helpless Hufflepuff you went to school with," Staples said menacingly. "You, on the other hand, will always be a slimy Slytherin."

Hermione heard Professor Staples' footsteps just in time to come away from the door and hide in a small alcove. When he was gone, Hermione exited her hiding place and hurried to the library. Madame Pince wasn't surprised to see her. Along with the vast majority of Ravenclaw students, Hermione was no stranger to late nights in the library and Madame Pince was used to seeing her around.

After hours of looking through books, Hermione tiredly made her way back to Gryffindor Tower. When she stepped through the portrait hole, the only people left in the Common Room were the very people she wanted to talk to. She wasn't enormously surprised however. Of course they waited for her, they always did.

"Where were you?" Harry asked. Hermione took a seat on the couch between her best friend and her boyfriend and sighed.

"I did a little digging," she said.

"Oh Merlin," Ron groaned. "I was hoping to never hear you say those words again."

"How much trouble are we in?" Harry asked tentatively.

"How did we even get in trouble in the first place?" Ron wondered. "I thought we were done."

"It's not us we have to worry about," Hermione said slowly. "I can't be positive, but I'm quite sure Rhea's the half-Nymph Professor Fletcher was trying to warn us about today."

"Oh course," Ron sighed. "She's got to be. I mean, he used the words _rare_ and _dangerous_. Of course it's got to be her, with our luck."

"I took this out of the Library," Hermione said, opening a book neither Harry nor Ron had noticed she had.

"Is that a yearbook?" Harry wondered. "I didn't realize there were yearbooks."

"They're from 1962 to 1978," Hermione replied. "They're not done anymore."

Purposefully, Hermione opened to a page filled with pictures of the 1978 Sixth Years. She pointed to a boy in Gryffindor colours with brown hair, brown eyes and a shy smile. A caption under the photo identified him as Pierre Devonshire. Hermione pointed to another student in Slytherin robes with dark hair and blue eyes named Nathan York. Next, she pointed to a Hufflepuff boy they all recognised as a young Kennedy Staples. Lastly, she pointed to the photo of another Slytherin and this one was undoubtedly Joshua Fletcher.

Hermione flipped forward a few pages to a group shot of Pierre, Nathan and Kennedy sitting by the lake. She looked at them expectantly, as if those few pictures explained everything but Harry was still confused.

Apparently Ron was too. "That's great, 'Mione, but how does that make Rhea a half-Nymph?"

Hermione told the boys about the argument she'd overheard between Staples and Fletcher. The more she told them, the more their faces fell. Hermione was right, as always. Rhea was a half-Nymph.

"She doesn't seem exceedingly dangerous though," Harry said, eyebrows knitting.

"That's because Nymphs aren't actually dangerous," Hermione explained. "The textbooks make them out to be monsters out of fear and ignorance. The only reason a Nymph would ever attack someone would be if they harmed a member of their pack."

"How many Nymph qualities do you reckon Rhea inherited?" Harry asked, thinking back to the photo of the woman with the fangs and claws.

"Professor Fletcher made it sound like she'd inherited all of them," Ron said.

"Professor Fletcher can't be trusted," Hermione said.

"What are we expected to do with this knowledge exactly, Hermione?" Harry asked, a little irritated. He'd just defeated one of history's most evil wizards a few short months ago. Was a normal life too much to ask for?

"I don't know," she admitted. "Nothing I suppose. I just thought you'd want to know."

"Right, goodnight then," Harry sighed, standing and stretching. He ascended the stairs to the Boys' dormitory, leaving a very perplexed Hermione sitting on the couch.

"Is he angry at me?" she wondered. "It was right to tell you, wasn't it?"

"Of course," Ron assured her. "He's just tired. It's almost midnight."

"Right," Hermione said, nodding distractedly. "And you're alright?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" Ron asked, confused.

"Well, if Rhea has all the traits of a Nymph than she's got to be bisexual. That doesn't freak you out?"

"Hermione, how small-minded do you think I am?" Ron wondered, hurt in his voice.

"I feel like I shouldn't answer that," Hermione mumbled.

"It doesn't bother me," Ron said. "I know I'm prejudiced a lot of the time, but not for no reason. I can't stand the Slytherins because of how they used to treat my family – how they used to treat you. It all built up over the years and I can't seem to let it go. But I don't mistreat people who haven't gone asking for it. It hurts that you think I would."

"I'm sorry, Ron," Hermione said, hanging her head.

"It's alright," he sighed, getting to his feet and pulling Hermione along with him. He wrapped her up in a tight hug. When they separated, he kissed her tenderly and stroked her hair. The couple exchanged goodnights and made their way to their dorms.

Hermione pulled open the door as quietly as possible and got changed in silence. She crawled into bed and sighed.

"Are you alright?" Rhea whispered from her bed, apparently not asleep.

Hermione was quiet for a moment, contemplating her answer. Remembering a Nymph's intuitive abilities she said, "it's been a rough night."

"Did you want to talk about it?" the half-Nymph proposed.

"Not right now," Hermione replied. She was about to leave it at that, but decided to say something more. "You can talk to me if you're having problems as well, you know."

"I will, Hermione," Rhea sighed. "But not right now."


	8. Fifth Years Slytherins

**Sorry this was a day late. I totally forgot yesterday was Friday. Anyhow, here you are. Enjoy, this is where it starts getting really good, not that it wasn't good before. And, as always reviews are appreciated, even anonymous ones. **

**Chapter 8**

**Fifth Year Slytherins **

"Good morning ladies," Seamus greeted, coming downstairs the next morning, smiling brightly. Hermione and Rhea smiled back at him sleepily. Neither had slept much all last night; Hermione because she couldn't stop thinking and Rhea because Hermione wouldn't stop tossing and turning.

"Good morning," Rhea sighed, standing at Seamus' side and resting her head tiredly on his shoulder. He put an arm around her and hugged her close. Even though Rhea had said nothing was going on between the pair, Hermione was finding it hard to believe they were just friends.

"Ron and Harry told us to go on ahead," Seamus said. "Weren't ready I guess."

Hermione looked at him sceptically. "I'm going to tell them to get a move on. You two go ahead."

Seamus seemed ready to protest but Rhea nodded and grabbed his hand, dragging him through the portrait hole. When they were gone, Hermione took the stairs up to the boys' dormitory and knocked on the door lightly.

"It's Hermione," she said when she received no answer. The door swung open hesitantly and Harry's face appeared on the other side.

"Come in," he said and she did. Harry hastily shut the door behind her.

"Seamus said you weren't ready to come down to breakfast," Hermione said. "Because you overslept?"

"You know why," Harry sighed. "This is all too much, Hermione. I thought I was done."

"Here's the thing about life, Harry," she said. "You're never done. Even when you're tired and out of luck, you still aren't done."

"You're talking to the boy who defeated Voldemort," Harry exclaimed. "I know how hard life can be. I lived it."

"We did too, mate," Ron said quietly.

"Not like I did," Harry exclaimed. "You don't understand!"

"But we do," Hermione insisted. "Don't shut us out because you're having trouble. We're here to help you, Harry."

"I feel like my life's spiralling out of control all over again," Harry whispered. "Whenever something's gone wrong, it's never been because of something I've done. I feel like I have no choice which path my life takes."

"You always have a choice," Hermione said solemnly. "The options you have to choose between might not always be what you want, but you can always choose."

"Besides, it's not like Rhea's Nymph heritage has potential to ruin your life," Ron chuckled. "Ease up, mate."

"You're right," Harry sighed. "I'm sorry, guys. I was being stupid. It won't happen again."

"Sure it will," Hermione said, a smile taking over her face. "But you're only human."

"I don't know what I'd do without friends like you," Harry said seriously. Hermione and Ron smiled at him and the three engaged in a quick group hug before heading down to breakfast.

Harry remained silent most of the day, only talking when he was spoken to first. When their last class of the day – Transfiguration with Headmistress McGonagall – ended, Harry was quite looking forward to having a nice, quiet evening. Poor Seamus had been asked by McGonagall to stay after class. He hadn't actually done anything wrong, which made it quite odd. But, because he was tired, Harry didn't think much of it and walked to the stairs in the Entrance Hall, Ron, Hermione and Rhea behind him. Just as Harry was about to step on the first stair, he heard someone call out, "hey Devonshire."

The quartet spun to see three Slytherins, most likely in their fifth year, approaching them. They were all beefy and intimidating.

"What are you doing here, Devonshire?" one asked, sneering. "This is a school for witches and wizards. The Forbidden Forest is just off the grounds, you might find it more to your liking."

Harry, Hermione and Ron all tensed upon hearing the Slytherin's words. Hermione looked over at Rhea and though she seemed to be calm, she was trembling slightly. Still, she stepped forward and raised her head defiantly.

"I would say you would find the forest quite homely yourself, but then I expect that most of the creatures within are far more civilized," Rhea jeered. That had the Slytherin bristling.

"Are you as much like you mommy as they say you are?" the Slytherin taunted. "Are you a freak like her, Devonshire?"

Rhea straightened, fists clenching.

"I think you're more like your daddy," said another Slytherin. "A complete disgrace to all wizards and the worst kind Blood traitor. You're filthier than a Mudblood."

By now, the Slytherins had gathered an audience. People gasped at the use of the words _Blood traitor _and _Mudblood_. Since the war, people had been carful to never utter those words, even if they were as prejudiced as they came.

"Whatever would give you that idea?" Rhea asked, trying to feign ignorance through clenched teeth.

"Our fathers took part in the raid against your parents and their group of freaks," the first Slytherin explained. "We know just what you are."

Before Rhea could say a word, the Slytherin withdrew his wand.

"_Diffindio_!"

In an instant that took everyone by surprise, Rhea's shirt and tie fell from her body and landed at her feet. The second they fell, a large uproar was heard as people looked on at the spirally, script-like markings on Rhea's back, arms and lower abdomen. She tried to cover herself from prying eyes but couldn't twist herself in a way that covered everything and so she gave up.

"You, Rhea Devonshire, are a Nymph," the Slytherin announced, though all the onlookers had pieced that much together from the lessons Professor Fletcher had given them. "Why don't you show everyone the Creature you are? Show them the markings, Devonshire!"

"We've all got markings."

The attention of the crowed shifted from Rhea to the speaker, Draco Malfoy, stepping towards the newly-exposed Nymph and rolling up his left sleeve. On his forearm was the remaining scar of the Dark Mark.

"Some we choose," he continued. "And others, we don't."

Harry couldn't help thinking of the lightning bolt scar on his forehead upon hearing his once enemy's words.

Draco reached his left arm out to Rhea. "But every single mark and scar that sits upon our skin tells the story of who we are and that's not something to be taken lightly or ridiculed by the ignorant."

Rhea took Draco's outstretched hand and let him pull her against his chest, shielding her more than she herself could from prying eyes. A few escaped tears ran down her cheeks, her turquoise eyes shining brighter than usual.

"You're defending her, Malfoy?" the third Slytherin asked, speaking for the first time. "You who used to be in league with the Dark Lord?"

"I was a fool," Draco said plainly, rendering the three Slytherins speechless. The Entrance Hall remained eerily quiet for a moment before sounds of someone trying to push through the crowd became audible.

"Rhea," Seamus exclaimed, breaking through the mass of bodies and running towards the black-haired girl. He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder and murmured something reassuring.

"Well if it isn't the cavalry," the first Slytherin spat. "Three guesses as to how you knew the little half-breed was in trouble."

"They're bonded," Hermione whispered under her breath, the first words any of the Golden Trio had spoken. She was right, Harry realized. It had been almost painfully obvious in fact that he was surprised none of them had noticed it earlier. The pair spent so much time together and were so intimately connected. If they weren't dating, than the next logical explanation was that Rhea and Seamus had forged a pack.

"I didn't think we'd see you around any time soon, Faggot Face," the second Slytherin jeered. "Those Stinging Hexes didn't teach you your lesson proper?"

In the blink of an eye, Rhea's eyes began to glow and her nails and teeth became claws and fangs. She hissed lividly at the group of Slytherins, pulling out of Draco's arms to rush them. She didn't get far before Seamus and Draco each took hold of one of her arms and restrained her.

"Rhea, don't," Seamus warned.

The Slytherins withdrew their wands and held them surely. The lead Slytherin readied himself to cast once more and neither of the three had their wands at the ready to fend him off.

"_Expelliarmus_!"

The head Slytherin's wand flew from his hand and the least likely of saviours stepped forth, her wand aimed at the group. She held her head high and stared them down menacingly.

"Parkinson?" the disarmed Slytherin asked, perplexed. "You're a Blood traitor now, too?"

Before Parkinson could reply, the second Slytherin aimed his wand at her and she hit him with a deftly cast _Stupefy_. The third Slytherin nervously lowered his wand, not wanting Parkinson to Stun him as well.

"I prefer to be thought of as practical," she said, wand still raised. While Parkinson had the Slytherins distracted, Seamus managed to coax Rhea back into human form and give her his jumper to wear.

"No, I think there's more to this than you're letting on," the Slytherin said slyly. "You're not defending the Gryffindorks at all. What would it matter to you if we torment Finnigan, the poor little Nancy-boy? Unless of course you've got a Nancy-boy of your own to be offended for."

The Slytherin shot Draco an accusing glance and Parkinson stepped forward, her wand clenched so tightly her arm was shaking.

"Pansy," Draco warned. Unlike Rhea, the counsel of a friend didn't rank above Parkinson's anger and she hit the Slytherin with several Stinging Hexes.

While Parkinson fumed and kept the two Slytherins who were still conscious in her line of fire, Draco and Rhea shared a meaningful look. She tilted her head slightly in some unasked question and Draco nodded, leaning towards her. Most were watching Parkinson intently and so they missed when Rhea placed a chaste kiss upon Draco's lips and the two began to faintly glow. Harry, Ron and Hermione saw however and looked on in interest as they watched the half-Nymph create a bond with the new member of her pack.

As soon as the two pulled apart, an authoritative voice rang out in the Entrance Hall.

"What is the meaning of this?" Headmistress McGonagall boomed. Students all stepped aside to let the Headmistress pass. When she caught sight of the scene before her she turned to the group of Fifth Year Slytherins, practically seething with anger.

"Up to my office immediately," she yelled. "And one hundred points from Slytherin. Each."

"Headmistress McGonagall," the hexed Slytherin began. "How can you allow a half-Nymph in your school?"

McGonagall gave him a glare worthy of weeks of nightmares and the Slytherin slunk away from her. "I believe the better question is how can I allow menaces like yourselves to attend Hogwarts? I don't think it would be wise of me. Now, to my office."

Before storming off with the three Slytherins – the third having regained consciousness – McGonagall turned to face Seamus, Rhea, Draco and Parkinson.

"And fifty points will be awarded to Slytherin for Miss Parkinson's willingness to defend all Hogwarts students, no matter their circumstances." The barest of smiles was present on the Headmistress' face as she spun on her heel and stalked away in the direction of her office.

The Entrance Hall began to buzz with excitement as the students began discussing what they'd just witnessed. Parkinson grabbed Draco's hand and squeezed it tightly, indicating that she wanted him to return with her to the Slytherin dorms before things got too out-of-control. Theo and Zabini appeared behind her, keeping their distance but also signalling that they'd like Draco to return with them.

"Go on," Rhea said. She turned to Parkinson and smiled shyly. "Thank you, Pansy."

Pansy gave a small nod before disappearing in the crowd with the Draco, Theo and Zabini.

"We should head back to Gryffindor Tower as well," Seamus muttered and Rhea nodded her consent.

Harry watched from the sidelines as Rhea and Seamus moved to take the stairs. When Harry didn't move, Hermione shot him a glare.

"Are you not going to check on them?" she snapped. It apparently took Harry too long to answer because Hermione let out a frustrated huff and purposefully made her way over to her fellow Gryffindors. Ron looked at Harry sidelong before following behind his girlfriend.

Not sure what to do, Harry watched as Hermione and Ron joined Rhea and Seamus as they took the stairs, butting away people who wouldn't move and hiding them from curious eyes. One thing was for sure, Ron had been wrong and Rhea's Nymph heritage was becoming Harry's problem. Although Hermione may have been right and he did have a choice he had absolutely no idea which one to make.


	9. Expectations

**Okay, I'd like to first start off by saying sorry for not having this up on the weekend. I was having virus trouble with my computer and I was studying for exams (or trying to study, but I have no concentration) Having written an English exam today, I thought it would be nice to post the next two chapters, not just to make up for lost time but also to make myself feel like not such a fail at the English language. Enjoy and review please and thank you. **

**Chapter 9**

**Expectations **

The night of the incident, a very upset Professor Staples paid a visit to Gryffindor tower. Much to his relief, he found Rhea in the Common Room surrounded by supportive friends. Seamus sat at one end of a sofa in front of the fire with Rhea curled up in his lap. Beside them sat Hermione and beside her, Ron. They group was deep in conversation when Staples sat in the armchair beside them.

"My, it's been a very long time since I was last in the Gryffindor Common Room."

Surprised, the four Gryffindors looked over at the man who had just infiltrated their Common Room.

"Kennedy, what are you doing here?" Rhea wondered, eyebrows knitting in confusion.

"You didn't think I would come check on my goddaughter?" Professor Staples asked.

"You've been in the Gryffindor Common Room before?" Ron asked curiously.

"Of course," Staples replied. "It's like I said, I was good friends with a Gryffindor in my day. There's no rule about Houses keeping to their own Common Rooms."

"Have you been to the Slytherin Common Room as well?" Hermione asked.

Professor Staples laughed outright. "Merlin no." He sobered after a moment and looked at his goddaughter seriously. "Are you alright, Rhea?"

"Yeah," she said, nodding slightly. "Things could be a lot worse."

Seamus hugged Rhea tighter and she instantly relaxed. Staples smiled enigmatically as he regarded the pair.

"Am I wrong in thinking you've bonded?" the professor asked.

Rhea nodded. "Yeah."

"Your mother would be so happy," Staples said. "She always hoped you'd find people to bond with. She wasn't sure you'd be able to because of your diluted blood."

"It's not as strong as Mom said yours was," Rhea sighed regretfully.

"Hang on a minute," Ron sputtered, eyes like saucers. "You were part of their pack, Professor?"

"Of course he was, Ronald," Hermione said, shaking her head in dismay. "What would make you think otherwise?"

"The key word there is _think_, Hermione," Seamus joked and the group laughed, much to Ron's displeasure.

"We don't seem to have any telepathic communication but our empathy has a greater range than normal," Rhea continued.

"How far?" Staples wondered.

"I'm picking up the faintest waves from Draco and he's down in the Slytherin dorms," she replied.

Professor Staples' eyebrows shot nearly all the way into his hairline. "That's remarkable. Can you sense him from that far as well Seamus?"

"Yup," Seamus said, nodding.

"Is it terribly strange?" Hermione wondered.

"Maybe a little," Seamus replied. "Nothing bad. It'll just take a while before I'm used to feeling random emotions that aren't mine."

"Emotions?" Ron quipped. "We are still talking about Malfoy, aren't we?"

Rhea and Hermione both shot him a glare at once and he held his hands up meekly. "Right, I get it, you're mates now and everything but I still don't like him. I'm not going to start hexing him any time soon but don't expect me to be all friendly with him either."

"Fair enough," Rhea agreed. "It's better than some people."

"We talked to Harry," Hermione said, guessing the reason as to why the half-Nymph was upset. "Don't worry about him too much. He's just got some issues to sort out."

"I know," Rhea sighed. Before she could add anything, a familiar redhead stepped through the portrait hole and ran over to the sofa.

"I just heard," Ginny said, dropping to her knees to look Rhea in the eyes. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Ginny, thank you," Rhea said. Ginny stood, brushed off her knees and sat on the armrest. She looked at her brother and his girlfriend and glared. "Why didn't you help her? They told me you just stood there with your mouths hung open. She had to be rescued by bloody Slytherins. Not that there's anything wrong with Slytherins, but you should have done something."

"We were taken by surprise, Ginny," Hermione said.

"And Pansy Parkinson wasn't?" Ginny grumbled.

"What's done is done," Rhea said before the argument could get out of hand. "I'm fine, that's all that matters."

"Yes, and if you're fine I think I best be off," Professor Staples said, standing and walking to the portrait hole. "I'll see you all in class tomorrow."

The group bid their professor farewell and settled back into their prior conversation. After a moment, Ginny's head perked up as though she'd just realized something.

"Where's Harry?" she asked, looking around the Common Room.

"He's not here, Gin," Ron said quietly. Ginny's eyebrows furrowed and Ron continued. "He's having a hard time with this."

"What? Why?" Ginny sputtered.

"We're not sure exactly," Hermione said. She looked over at Rhea. "Maybe this isn't the best place."

"Please, my parents were killed because of this. Don't try and spare my feeling," Rhea sighed. "Whatever you have to say, you can say it in front of me."

Hermione was quiet for a moment before speaking. "I think Harry's homophobic."

"We both do," Ron whispered.

"What? That's ridiculous," Ginny snapped.

"It's not, Gin," Rhea said. "I can sense it. He's uncomfortable with me, and not because of my creature heritage."

"He's not going to turn his back on you though, surely," the youngest Weasley insisted.

"No, he'll come around," Rhea agreed. "But it's just as Hermione said earlier. He has issues to sort out."

"Oh," Ginny mumbled, head hung. She wasn't sure what to say. Obviously Rhea wasn't mistaken in what she was sensing and because he was her boyfriend, Ginny felt responsible.

"It's not your fault, Ginny," Rhea said, smiling reassuringly. "You can only be true to yourself. Others have to follow their own paths."

"Yeah, well I know where my path is taking me," Seamus laughed. "I've got a potions essay I need to finish."

"And I've got transfiguration," Ron sighed.

"That reminds me, what did McGonagall want?" Hermione asked Seamus.

Seamus laughed. "Apparently to congratulate Rhea and I on bonding."

The room fell eerily silent as everyone fixed Seamus with bewildered expressions.

"Yeah, I couldn't believe it either."

As the Eighth Years pulled their books from their bags, Ginny stood.

"I've already finished my assignments," she said. "I think I'll take a walk."

"Don't get caught out after curfew," Hermione warned. The redhead said nothing and stepped into the corridor. She walked around aimlessly until she found herself on the second floor outside Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Ever since her first year, whenever she wandered she always found herself there, outside the bathroom. Sighing, she opened the door and walked inside. Myrtle didn't seem to be around and that was fine with her. She needed the quiet.

"Terribly sorry, but this is my place to brood," said a voice from somewhere in the bathroom. Ginny turned to see someone tall coming into view. "You'll have to – Ginny?"

Ginny smiled weakly. "Theo."

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

"Stealing your place to brood, apparently," she replied, taking a seat on the edge of a sink. Theo took a seat on the sink beside her.

"You come here often?" he asked. "Because I think I'd remember seeing you around."

Ginny laughed half-heartedly. "A lot, actually. And you?"

"Just recently started," Theo said. "It's a nice place once Myrtle stops prattling on and on and on."

"She does like to talk," Ginny agreed. "So, what's bothering you that you have to come out to an abandoned bathroom to think?"

"I could ask you the same question."

"You first."

Theo sighed and furrowed his brow, formulating an answer. "I feel like my entire life has been a lie. I want to start over again but I'm not quite sure how. Like, every person I meet knows where I come from and I'll never get a chance to make anything of my life. Eighteen years and my life is over."

"You're life isn't over," Ginny protested.

"But it is," Theo insisted, turning to look at her, their faces only inches apart. "You're from a family of war heroes. You're going to go on to marry the Saviour of the Wizarding world and have great job and beautiful kids. What does the future have in store for me? I'll be lucky if anyone will ever hire me and even luckier if I find a girl willing to go on even one date. Your future is all mapped out, Ginny Weasley. Mine used to be. I was going to be a good little Pure-blood and marry another Pure-blood and we were going have children so that the cycle could repeat itself with them. But I don't want that. I don't want the future I've been given."

"Neither do I," Ginny whispered before leaning in and capturing Theo's lips in a searing kiss. After a moment of hesitation, Theo kissed her earnest, forcing his tongue into her mouth. He was met with no resistance and Ginny brought her hands up, tangling them in his hair. After a few minutes of intense snogging, reality caught up with both Pure-bloods and the pulled apart quickly.

"I've got to go," Ginny said quickly, almost running to the door.

"Ginny, wait," Theo called but the redhead didn't turn or stop. He sighed profoundly and, stunned, brought a hand to his lips. He'd just kissed Ginny Weasley and what's more, desperately wanted to do it again.

Ginny too was stuck in a daze as she fled down the hallway. She didn't know where she was going, so long as it took her far away. She'd just kissed Theodore Nott one hundred percent of her own volition. She couldn't deny the connection she felt with him. From that Sunday in Hogsmeade on, she couldn't get him out of her head. But this was different. She'd actually kissed him. There was no way this was going to get any worse.

Rounding the corner, she ran directly into the one person who could, in fact, make the situation worse.

"Ginny, what are you doing out here?" Harry asked. Instead of answering, Ginny threw her arms around his neck and kissed him hard. He kissed her back tenderly but she pulled away. Harry looked at her curiously. She had the most frustrated expression Harry had ever seen.

"Do you want to know what the problem is, Harry?" she yelled. "When I see you, my heart doesn't skip a beat. When I'm alone, you aren't the person I can't stop thinking about. When I kiss you, I don't feel a thing."

"Ginny?"

"We try so hard," the Weasley continued. "I have tried so hard to make myself fall in love with you but I can't. Why are we together, Harry? We are only together because that's what people are all expecting from us. You'll be an Auror and I'll be a good little housewife and we'll get married and have Potter babies who'll cause mischief and get all _Outstanding_s their N.E.W.T.s because their parents are just the perfect happy couple. Is that what you want really, Harry, because I don't want that at all. We are not the perfect couple everyone expects us to be. I'm sorry Harry but I can't do this anymore. We're done."

Without another word of explanation, Ginny turned on her heels and fled in the opposite direction. Taken aback, Harry mindlessly made his way back to Gryffindor Tower and filed into the Common Room. His four studying friends looked up at him in concern.

"Mate, are you alright?" Ron asked, setting his quill down.

"Your sister just broke up with me," Harry replied, still in a daze. His announcement obviously shocked everyone present. They all stared at him, mouths agape.

"Are you alright?" Hermione asked after a moment.

"I really am," Harry replied honestly. He really did have no quarrels with no longer being with Ginny romantically. They had always worked best as friends and to be honest, kissing her felt a lot like kissing a sister. They weren't meant to be. He loved her, he just wasn't in love with her.

Trudging to his dorm he wondered if he'd ever actually fall in love with anyone. More importantly, he wondered if Ginny would ever find anyone to set her heart on fire the way he couldn't.


	10. Flutter

**And here's the day's second chapter. Reviews make me a happy person. **

**Chapter 10**

**Flutter **

When Harry had come into the Common Room and announced that he and Ginny had separated, their friends had instantly begun to worry that things would become very awkward but fortunately, they did not. The only thing that changed was the amount of time they spent with Slytherins because not only were Rhea and Draco bonded but a few days after the breakup, Ginny announced that she was seeing Theodore Nott. Ron, of course, was in a horrid mood for the next week but slowly, he came around to the idea of his sister dating a Slytherin. Telling the rest of the Weasley clan was another matter entirely and Ginny asked that no one say anything to any of the others about her and Theo's relationship.

Just as Hermione and Rhea had predicted, Harry had in fact come around, though maybe not all the way. Still, he wasn't avoiding Seamus or Rhea and if he was less than friendly with Draco, well it wasn't any different than how it had always been.

And so that was how, two weeks before the winter holidays, Harry found himself among the group of Slytherins and Gryffindors, seated at the Three Broomsticks enjoying a butterbeer.

"I hear McGonagall's organizing a Holliday Ball," Hermione said conversationally.

"Like, with dancing?" Ron asked nervously. He wasn't the lightest on his feet.

"Yes, with dancing," Hermione laughed. "Are you going to ask to go with me this time or will someone else beat you too it?"

"Would you do me the honour of accompanying me to the ball, Miss Granger," Zabini jokingly asked before Ron had a change to open his mouth.

"Sorry Ron, looks like you're out of luck again," Harry said causing the group to laugh and Ron to scowl.

"You lot are mean," Ron accused. They only laughed harder.

"Don't worry Ron, I'll just have to turn Zabini down," Hermione said. "You're the only one I want to go to the ball with."

Hermione leaned over and kissed Ron softly.

"Would you two stop it with the sickeningly sweet displays of affection?" Pansy scowled, sipping her butterbeer leisurely.

"Sorry, I forgot we were in the presence of a dementor," Ron said, but unlike what one would expect, he really was only joking.

"What is everyone planning to do over Christmas?" Ginny wondered.

"Blaise and I are staying at school," Pansy replied.

"As am I," Theo added.

"Me too," sighed Rhea.

"Mother's been at the Manor alone since I left for school so I think it would be best if I returned home," Draco said.

"I'll be headed home as well," Seamus said.

"Of course, Ginny, Ron, Harry and I will be going to the Burrow to see the Weasleys," Hermione informed them.

"Actually 'Mione," Harry began. "I think I'm going to go to Grimmauld Place instead."

"But Harry," Ron protested. "You're more than welcome, mate."

"I know, it's just that I've got to tidy the place up proper and decide what I want to do with it. It is mine after all," Harry explained.

"Well, the offer remains open," Ginny said.

"Thank you," Harry sighed, taking a drink of butterbeer. The group continued to make small talk until the last of them had finished their butterbeers and were ready to either head back to the castle or continue shopping in Hogsmeade.

Some odd turn of events that Harry hadn't quite managed to follow left he and Draco alone in the Three Broomsticks. The two regarded one another awkwardly for a moment, neither sure what to say to the other. Finally, it was the Slytherin that broke the silence.

"I never got to properly thank you for saving me, Potter," he said.

"Yeah, me neither," Harry sighed. "So thanks."

"Yes. Thank you," Draco said gratefully.

"You want to grab another butterbeer?" Harry asked after a moment of silence. Draco agreed and the two grabbed drinks and a secluded booth.

"Do you still have my wand?" Draco asked hesitantly.

"I do," Harry said. "I suppose you want it back."

"If it's not too much trouble," Draco murmured. "I got another one, but it's not the same."

"I'll pass it to you tomorrow," Harry promised.

"Thank you," the blond said.

"That's twice you've thanked me now," the black-haired boy chuckled. "Who are you and what have you done with Draco Malfoy?"

"I'm not the same prat you knew," Draco said. "I was just insecure and afraid."

Harry looked up from his butterbeer at the troubled blond before him. His hand shook on the mug of butterbeer he held so tightly and his storm grey eyes glistened with unshed tears. "I'm starting to see that."

Draco, eyes still downcast, said, "I'm really sorry for everything, Potter. I don't know what I was doing with my life, just that I was very wrong. I've gotten to know Granger and the Weasleys and I actually like them."

"And me?" Harry wondered.

"I've always liked you," Draco laughed. "I was simply furious with you because you refused to be friends with me. You know, that's the first time anyone had ever told me no."

Harry too laughed. "Yeah, I can believe that."

"It's easy to blame all my behaviour on my upbringing but really, it's only an excuse," the Slytherin sighed. "At some point I grew up and I should have been able to form my own opinions. I've always admired that about you, Potter. You're much braver than I am. When things become difficult, you always choose the right path."

"What you did for Rhea was quite brave," the Gryffindor said. "It couldn't have been easy. You really put yourself out on the line."

"Didn't that come back to bite me in the arse," Draco scoffed bitterly. Because of the Fifth Year Slytherins – who had been given detention every night until their graduation – Draco and Seamus had been effectively outed to the entire student body. Because they were with Rhea – and a more normal yet equally frightening Pansy Parkinson – no one gave them any trouble but it was obvious that the occasional student thought about them in a less than friendly manner.

"I'm sorry," Harry said.

Draco barked a laughed. "It's hardly your fault. That hero complex of yours is going to be your undoing."

"Sorry for trying to be nice," Harry said sarcastically. "I can go back to being an arse if that'll make you fell better."

"No, that's alright. I like it much better when we aren't trying to kill each other," Draco said.

"I never wanted to kill you," Harry said quickly.

"Me neither," Draco sighed. He looked up at the man across from him and smiled weakly. Harry felt his heart flutter unexpectedly. The overhead light cast a faint glow on Draco's angular features and made his grey eyes sparkle. Clearing his throat nervously, Harry shifted in his seat.

"Now that the war is over, I don't see any reason why we shouldn't be friends," Harry said, extending a hand. Draco looked at it for a moment warily as though at any moment, Harry would pull away and say he'd only been joking. The Slytherin looked up and into the Gryffindors eyes and again, Harry felt his heart flutter and his head spin.

"Hi, I'm Harry," he whispered, lest his voice break the spell he'd fallen under.

"Nice to meet you, Harry," Draco whispered, taking Harry's hand. "I'm Draco."

Before either could say another word, Draco yawned noisily, taking his hand back to cover his mouth, Harry's own hand tingling from the loss of contact.

"Are you tired?" Harry asked.

Draco laughed sleepily. "Blaise snores."

"It's getting late," Harry remarked, looking out the window at the setting sun. "We could head back to the castle."

Draco agreed and once the pair finished their butterbeers, they walked up to the castle together chatting aimlessly about school and other such trivial things. When they arrived in the Entrance Hall they were both laughing over something Harry had said involving Flitwick and treacle tarts. As Draco laughed, Harry heart clenched oddly and he shook himself, trying to make the feeling go away.

"Are you alright?" Draco asked as he watched Harry shift from foot to foot.

"What? Yeah, I'm fine," he replied distractedly.

Draco nodded. "Right. Well then, I'll see you around."

As Harry watched Draco walk towards the dungeons, his palms became sweaty and a lump grew in his throat. Before he knew quite what he was doing, he called out, "Goodnight, Draco."

Draco stopped and looked over his shoulder. A small smile graced his face and Harry's breath caught in his throat.

"Goodnight, Harry," Draco chuckled. He tuned his back to the Saviour of the Wizarding world and took the stairs down to Slytherin dorms.

When Draco was finally out of sight, Harry let out a breath he'd been painfully aware that he was holding. His heart started beating fast and his knees were like jelly. His ears rang all the way up Gryffindor Tower and when he finally burst through the portrait hole and sank down on the nearest couch, he had only one thought in his very confused head. What the hell was that?


	11. Save a Prayer

**Sorry, I'm a tad late with this update. Yesterday was the last day of school. I got my exam marks. Apparently I didn't totally mess up my English exam. It was in the nineties so yay me. Anyway, I'm sorry. So without further ado, here is chapter 11. Also, yes, the title is the name of a Duran Duran song. This chapter is not a song-fic. No lyrics have been added. It's only briefly mentioned because I think it is the most romantic song, like, ever. **

**Chapter 11**

**Save a Prayer**

"This is a bad idea, Ginny," Rhea warned. She, Ginny and Hermione were in the Eighth Year girls' dorm room preparing for the ball McGonagall had organized. It was the night before school was let out for the holiday break which essentially gave them carte blanche to party hard. Currently, Ginny was trying to force Rhea into a dress she really wasn't comfortable wearing.

"It's your dress," Ginny laughed. "Why would you take it if you didn't want to wear it?"

"More for sentimental reasons," Rhea mumbled. "Besides, aren't we supposed to wear dress robes to a ball?"

"McGonagall wants this ball to be a celebration of freedom," Hermione explained. "She's encouraging those students with Muggle clothing to wear it."

"I can almost feel Pansy having a heart attack as we speak," Rhea joked. The three girls all broke out into a fit of giggles. Giving in, Rhea slipped on the black dress Ginny had been forcing on her.

"You said the dress is a sentimental thing?" Hermione asked, zipping up the back of her lilac coloured dress. It was strapless and fell just above her knees, fitted tight and hugging her every curve. Ginny's dress was crimson and floor-length with a sweetheart neckline and empire waist.

"My boyfriend gave it to me," Rhea replied. Neither girl knew Rhea was seeing anyone and so this came as a big surprise to them. "He lives in Adelaide."

"Have you been together long?" Ginny asked.

"It'll be four years in June," Rhea said. "That's where I went when the war broke out. Most people fled to Europe by my parents took it one step further and shipped me off to Australia."

"Is he a wizard?" Hermione asked, trying not to seem nosy.

"He's a Nymph actually," Rhea replied. "He lives entirely Muggle, though."

"What's his name?" Ginny asked excitedly.

"Kit Dunham," the half-Nymph said. "Our mothers knew each other back in the seventies when they lived in the same colony. Nymphs do that; they live in colonies but don't forge packs until they're older. Anyway, Kit's mother moved to Australia to join a colony there and my mother met my father and moved to Cambridge. They kept in touch though so Kit and I have known each other since we're young."

"Is he our age?" Hermione asked.

"Three years older," Rhea said. "He's studying at the University of Adelaide to become a psychologist."

Sighing, Rhea stood in front of a full length mirror and looked at the dress she'd just put on. She spun slowly to get a full view and nodded slowly.

"Are you sure it's not too much," she asked.

"Rhea, if you don't wear this dress, I will," Ginny said. She took both her friends by the arm and dragged them out of their dorm room, down to where the ball had already started. Waiting for them were Ron, Seamus, Harry, Draco, Theo, Pansy and Zabini. When they saw the girls, they all fell silent.

"You look bloody fantastic," Seamus exclaimed, taking in their dresses.

"You look great, Hermione," Ron agreed, going over to his girlfriend and kissing her softly.

"Beautiful as ever," Theo complimented, taking Ginny's hand and smiling sweetly. To Ginny's utter surprise, he was dressed in Muggle clothing – a black dress shirt and black trousers. Draco too was in Muggle clothes wearing a white dress shirt and black trousers. When Theo's father had been placed in Azkaban, he'd been given all the family money and had gone on a rebellious Muggle shopping spree.

"Don't worry about the markings," Seamus said quietly as he moved to stand beside Rhea. "You look wonderful."

Rhea's dress really was wonderful. It had a drop waist and the mildly ruffled hem fell to her mid-thighs. It was both sleeveless and backless, exposing all her markings save the ones on her stomach. She felt somewhat overexposed, especially with her hair held off her back in a sleek ponytail.

"Thank you," Rhea whispered, blushing slightly.

"Right, shall we head out to the dance floor?" Hermione proposed, taking Ron by the hand and leading him. The others followed them through the crowd.

Harry was impressed by how many students were dressed in Muggle clothing. Professor Staples had also pushed to have some Muggle music playing during the evening. Harry vaguely recognized the song playing loudly out of the speakers. It was a slow song and Ron and Hermione instantly took off to the dance floor, Ginny and Theo a hairsbreadth behind them.

"Would you care to dance, Draco?" Rhea asked. Draco nodded slowly and took Rhea's hand, letting the half-Nymph drag him away with her. Once they were wrapped in each other's arms and moving to the beat, Rhea spoke.

"What's bothering you?" she asked. All night, she'd been sensing his unease through the bond – Seamus too. Though it didn't take being bonded to see that the blond had something on his mind. He seemed unsettlingly distracted, glancing around and shifting nervously.

"I am somewhat apprehensive to return to the Manor," Draco admitted. He remained quiet for a few moments and Rhea wondered whether or not she would have to pry the rest out of him but eventually he continued. "Since the war, Mother's been out of communication with most of the Wizarding community but I worry that certain old friends tried to get back in touch upon hearing her son was a raging queer."

"You're worried about her reaction," Rhea reasoned.

"No. Well, maybe in part, but that's not what's got me so worked up," he explained. "I don't doubt it will take her some time to adjust, but I'm also quite certain that ultimately she'll be supportive."

Again, Draco was quiet for some time and Rhea was unsure whether he would go on, but he did.

"The only other person in my family to know about me was my Aunt Bella. She was teaching me Occlumancy at the time. She was terrible to me because of it. She left the fact that she knew hanging over my head to make me as obedient as possible. What really bothered me, however, is that she simply found out unintentionally. With Mother, I don't want her to find out, I want to tell her."

"I'm really sorry, Draco," Rhea mumbled, leaning her head on his shoulder. "I've been making your life unduly difficult."

"Rhea, Love, my life was going to be unduly difficult anyway," Draco chuckled. "You make it all worthwhile." After a moment of silence, he added, "still, I think I'd much prefer to spend the evening on my own. I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all," Rhea assured him, pulling out of his arms and squeezing his hand tightly. "Come find me if you need anything though, promise?"

"You have my word," Draco promised before taking his hand from hers and disappearing into the crowd.

"Is Draco alright?" Seamus asked, coming up from seemingly nowhere to take the Slytherin's place at Rhea's side.

"He just wanted to be alone," she replied. A slow song, this one by a wizarding group, began to play and Rhea allowed Seamus to pull her to him. "Anxieties about returning home."

"Is it a good idea to let him go off on his own like that?" the Irishman wondered, quirking an eyebrow.

"He won't be alone for long," Rhea sighed, almost so softly she couldn't be heard over the noise of the crowd, but Seamus did hear her and he wondered what her cryptic statement could possibly mean. Choosing not to ask, he pulled Rhea closer and lost himself in the music.

Hermione and Ron were both laughing furiously by the time the song ended. Ron was dead serious when he described himself as _very not nimble_. As the music faded slowly, Professor Staples arranged a Muggle music playing device to take over and Hermione heard a very familiar synthesized melody reach her ears.

"I love this song," she exclaimed. When she was young, her mother used to play this very song over and over. When it would come on the radio, all conversations had to be put on hold. Nothing, Hermione believed, was more beautiful than Duran Duran's _Save a Prayer_.

"I was hoping you would," Ron said softly. When Hermione looked at him, confused, he explained. "When Professor Staples started asking for Muggle song requests, I owled Dad and asked him to look into some of the most popular songs from when you were young, hoping maybe you'd like one."

"Oh, Ron," she sighed. "I love it. And I love you."

"I love you too, Hermione."

Meanwhile, Ginny and Theo were caught in an embrace of their own swaying languidly to the sound of the music.

"Winter Holidays are going to be lonely without you," Theo remarked, playing gently with a piece of Ginny fire red hair. "It's ludicrous. I'd never thought of you before and now suddenly I can't stop thinking about you."

Ginny laughed airily. "I know exactly what you mean," she said. "Had someone told me at the start of the year that I'd be attending this ball with Theodore Nott as opposed to Harry Potter I'd have sent them straight to Saint Mungo's."

"And you don't wish you were with him, sometimes?" Theo asked meekly. "It's what everyone expects. I'm not ever going to be good enough for you, Ginny. And I daresay your family won't be pleased."

"Actually," Ginny began. "That's not entirely the case. I summoned up all my Gryffindor courage and owled Mom to tell her about us. I got an owl from her this morning and much to my surprise, it was not carrying a howler. She wants you to come to the Burrow to spend Christmas."

"Come again?" Theo said, completely taken aback.

"I didn't quite believe it myself at first but that's what she said," the Weasley confirmed. "I know we haven't been dating all that long. Don't feel like you have to come."

"I'd love to, Ginny," he said.

"Really?" she asked, unsure.

"Absolutely," he confirmed, pulling her closer and kissing her softly.

Off to the side, Pansy and Zabini stood awkwardly outside the ring of dancing teens. Both had their arms crossed, expressions fixed on the dancers.

"It seems as though everyone's taken to dancing to this Muggle music," Zabini commented, nose wrinkling in distaste.

"So it would appear," Pansy agreed.

"I don't suppose there's any harm in dancing as well then," Zabini said thoughtfully.

"It doesn't seem so," Pansy sighed.

"Would you care to dance, Pansy," Zabini asked, extending a hand.

"Thank you, Blaise. It would be a pleasure," Pansy said, smiling slightly as the two Slytherins walked out onto the floor.

With everyone dancing and laughing and having such a good time, no one noticed when Harry Potter slipped away following a head of platinum blond hair.

Draco Malfoy stood at the top of the Astronomy tower looking out over the grounds, the bitter cold winter wind cutting through his light Muggle shirt. The tears streaking his cheeks only made him colder. Wrapping his arms around himself, he took a deep shuddering breath, trying to calm himself but only managing to cry harder.

Harry stood at several feet away looking on, feeling his heart clench painfully as he saw the young blonde's tears. Seeing movement from the corner of his eye, Draco spun to find Harry standing there watching him. He hastily wiped his eyes and straightened his back.

"Harry," Draco greeted, his voice a hushed, shaking whisper.

"Are you alright?" Harry asked once he found his voice. Draco simply shrugged and turned to look at the grounds once more. Hesitantly, Harry moved to stand beside the Slytherin, placing a hand on his shoulder. Draco looked over at him curiously and Harry felt like he'd been kicked in the gut seeing the tears still falling down his face.

"What are you doing here anyway?" the blonde snapped, his voice hostile.

"I followed you," Harry admitted, blushing. The admission took Draco aback and for a moment the blond was quiet before barking out a laugh.

"Is this the part where you try to cut me in half?"

Though Draco had only been joking – for the most part – the hand Harry laid on the blonde's back twitched guiltily. Unconsciously, Harry began to rub small circles on Draco's shoulder with his thumb as he mumbled apologies.

"I've forgiven you," Draco assured him. "You didn't know what it did."

"Which is why I never should have used it," Harry insisted. "What if I'd killed you?"

"The vanishing cabinet would never have been fixed and Dumbledore would never have died," Draco said bitterly, a fresh wave of tears spilling down his cheeks.

"That's bullshit," Harry said quickly. "Dumbledore had been cursed. He was going to die anyway. Your actions made it possible for Snape to secure his position at Voldemort's side, something that helped us more than you could imagine."

"Great, so I accidentally helped a little," Draco sighed.

"You purposely helped a lot," Harry corrected. He took his hand off Draco's shoulder and brought it to his cheek, brushing a few tears away with his thumb. "Don't cry, alright."

Unfortunately, Harry's actions only made Draco cry harder. Harry quickly pulled the Slytherin into a hug. Hesitantly, Draco brought his arms up to fist his hands in the loose material on the Gryffindor's back. He rested his head on Harry's shoulder as his body was racked with sobs.

"Is there anything else bothering you, Draco?" Harry asked in concern, running his hands through the other boy's silvery blond locks comfortingly.

Draco shook his head slowly. "I don't think it's something you'd feel all that comfortable talking about."

It was only then that Harry remembered the boy he was holding so close was gay. A month ago, that might have bothered him, but at that moment all that mattered to him was seeing Draco happy again. It hurt to see him upset.

"You can tell me anything," Harry whispered. Again, his words only served to worsen the tears. "Please don't cry," the pained Gryffindor pleaded.

"I'm being a burden," Draco snivelled in a very un-Malfoy-like manner.

"You're not a burden," Harry assured him, rubbing his back soothingly.

"That's the problem," Draco sobbed hysterically. "I can understand why Rhea's so kind to me. She's right. I've not personally done anything to her. But you? I was horrible to you and your friends but you're all so nice to me, Hermione especially. You should hate me. I haven't done anything to deserve this. I'm just waiting for the dream to end, to wake up one day and to have you all hate me again because, Merlin knows, you should."

"Arguably, you did spend the better part of seven years being a prat, but it's not like I wasn't a prat right back," Harry said and Draco chuckled slightly. "If I remember correctly, I stalked you in sixth year because you stopped bothering me. Who does that?"

At this, Draco laughed. "It's not as though you were unfounded in your crazed stalking," he said.

"But I was," Harry insisted. "The second your world stopped revolving around me, I automatically assumed you were up to something."

"Which I was," the Slytherin pointed out, his smile fading. Harry, who had at some point began running his hand up and down Draco's arms, raised a hand and clasped the blonde's chin tightly forcing him to look him in the eyes.

"Draco, I'm not faulting you for having a sense of self-preservation so don't even go there," Harry said seriously. "I know you didn't want to. I heard what you were saying that night."

Both boys fell silent as Harry's words brought back unpleasant memories. As the Saviour of the Wizarding World, Harry had needed to make a lot of choices and not all of them were good. Still he never felt as guilty as he did thinking back to the night he almost killed an already broken Draco Malfoy. Seemingly against his will, Harry raised his hand and rested it lightly on the blonde's chest. He toyed with a button, causing Draco to shiver.

"Could I see?" he asked quietly. Draco felt his mouth go dry. Harry's _Sectumsempra_ had left a long, angry scar down his chest from his right shoulder to his left hipbone. He wasn't sure it was something the already guilty brunette should see, but Harry looked imperturbable so he nodded. Slowly, shaking finger unbuttoned his shirtfront until it hung open entirely. Draco heard Harry's sharp intake of breath sounding so pained and regretful. A trembling hand traced the scar and Draco leaned into the warm touch.

"Merlin, I'm so sorry," Harry whispered, his agonized voice barely audible. The sheer desperation in his voice made Draco shiver.

"I forgive you, Harry," he said, equally as quiet. "It's nothing I didn't deserve."

"You've got to stop saying things like that," the Gryffindor pleaded. "You're wrong. You talk about yourself as though you're worthless but you're worth so much to the people who care about you."

"That's where you're wrong, Golden Boy," Draco sighed. "I am worthless. I'm a worthless Malfoy. Malfoys don't cry or have any feelings at all for that matter, unless it's contempt, of course. Malfoys certainly aren't flaming little gay boys who like it up the bum, which, by the by, makes me a worthless Pure-blood too. And you know, I could live with all that if I was a half-decent human being, but I'm not even that, am I?"

"What if I told you you're worth something to me?" Harry whispered, a painful lump formed in is throat, his eyes glistening with unshed tears.

"I'd feel compelled to ask if you'd nicked anything from Slughorn's stores, if you know what I mean."

"I'm serious, Draco," Harry said. "I don't hate you. I don't even dislike you."

The Gryffindor slowly ran a finger down the scar on the Slytherin's chest and sighed. "If anything, you should hate me."

"Can't," Draco said. Both boys looked up into each other's eyes and a stray tear slowly ran down the blonde's cheek. "Like I said, I've always like you."

Harry felt his heart speed incredibly, thumping violently in his ribcage. Without quite knowing why, he brought a hand up to cup Draco's cheek. He pulled him even closer and kissed him gently on the forehead. When Harry heard Draco's small gasp of surprise, he brought his lips lower and kissed the tip of his nose, hoping to hear that hypnotic sound again. Draco drew in a ragged breath, this new sound equally as enticing to Harry, and shifted his head slightly so his and Harry's lips were precariously close. In a moment of passion, Harry closed the distance between the two and captured the blonde's delicate lips. Draco rocked back on his heels, completely taken aback for a moment, before bringing himself close to the brunette once again and kissing him back.

All too soon, Harry's mind caught up with his body and he stopped, pulling himself quickly out of Draco's grasp. The two looked at one another for a long, quiet moment, Harry's mouth opening and closing like a fish. Not for the first time, Harry Potter gave in to the very Slytherin side of himself and fled down the stairs, taking them two at a time to speed up the process. Draco Malfoy shakily brought a hand up to his lips before breaking down in tears, curling up on himself on the floor of the Astronomy Tower.

When Harry reached the bottom of the stairs, he heard approaching footsteps and hid in a small alcove. He watched as Rhea and Seamus ran frantically up the stairs, taking them two at a time much like he had, though his friends' intentions were much better than his own had been. With a heavy heart, Harry returned to Gryffindor Tower and robotically prepared himself for bed. Tomorrow he would be heading to Gimmauld Place. Hopefully during his time there he'd be able to figure out just what exactly was going on with his emotions and why he desperately wished to still be kissing one Draco Malfoy.


	12. Loose Floorboards

**Sorry for being late with the update (insert nervous laughter here). I'm officially out of pre-written chapters to post. I'm trying to write a novel this summer and my goal is to write 4000 to 5000 words a day, which is a lot for one day, even though it might not sound like it. So that just means that my updates may be more like 2 to 3 weeks apart and I do apologize about that. Just know that if things are coming slow, it's not because I've given up writing this, I'm just otherwise engaged. **

**Chapter 12**

**Loose Floorboards**

Harry Potter stood inside the doorway of number twelve Gimmauld place and, with a sigh, let his trunk drop to the floor beside him. He inhaled deeply, the smells of dust and mould washing over him. It would be strange, not going to the Burrow for Christmas, but Harry needed some time alone. He had managed to avoid Seamus, Rhea and, most importantly, Draco before leaving Hogwarts. The blond Slytherin had his head spinning. Harry had kissed him. He'd never thought about kissing a guy before, but when Draco had been that close, all rational thought shut off and Harry found himself with an erratic heartbeat and a light head. What did that make him? Surely he wasn't gay.

Harry sighed once more and tiredly made his way to the living room, not bothering to move his trunk from the doorway. He wasn't expecting visitors. Taking a seat on the sofa in front of the fireplace, he drew his wand and a small fire erupted in the hearth. The heat warmed his chilled bones. It was relaxing, just sitting in front of the fire and not having to fight for his life. For a brief moment, Harry was able to forget all his problems, and it was nice. But like anything in life, it soon ended and he had to return to reality.

Sirius Black was dead and gone. So were his mother and father. Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks, Fred Weasley. They were all dead too. Grimmauld place seemed full of ghosts as Harry sat alone with a heavy heart. Every shadow the fire cast on the walls was a spirit from the past, haunting him. But what should he have done differently? He'd never been able to control his life; everything was always so far out of his hands. And it was happening again.

Harry thought back to Hermione's words. _You always have a choice. The options you have to choose between might not always be what you want, but you can always choose._ So now it was up to Harry to make that difficult choice. He didn't like his options, but he knew what they were and that he would have to eventually pick one. He could talk with Draco and sort the whole thing out. He could give the blond a chance, or he could deny he'd ever felt anything for Draco Malfoy and carry on with his life. One option certainly was easier, but it wasn't necessarily better. And, if Harry was being completely honest with himself, he'd say that he really just wanted to take the easy way out. Enough with the fighting, the struggling to live his life the way he wanted to. Harry wanted to give up.

Needing to take his mind off things, Harry stood up and headed to his room, the room that had once belonged to his late godfather. The room had been tidied up. It was still decorated in Gryffindor colours, but the muggle posters had been removed from the walls.

Walking over to the closet, a floorboard creaked under Harry's foot. Harry stopped in his tracks. Something about that loose floorboard was proving to be the last straw. It wasn't as though he'd have enough work ahead of him to get the place fully cleaned up, but now the floor would have to be fixed as well? Of course, he'd walked over the loose board multiple times, but he happened to be in an irritable mood and so naturally, something as trivial as flooring was irritating him.

Harry knelt by the board in question and tried to lift it but his fingers were too thick. He resourcefully grabbed his wand from his pocket and used it as a lever. With one push, the floorboard popped out of place. Suddenly, Harry felt quite stupid. He'd just ripped out a piece of flooring. What about that had been such a good idea?

Sighing, he pushed the displaced board aside. He had been moving to stand but stopped dead when he saw what sat in the gaping hole he'd just created. There, covered in years of dust, was a small leather-bound journal. Curious, Harry picked it up and dusted off the cover. He opened it hesitantly. The last time he'd found a strange diary, he'd ended up in a fight to the death with a giant snake. Not an experience he cared to repeat.

The first page was blank, as were the second and third. Harry flipped through the entire book, but nothing was written within. He was about to give up when a thought crossed his mind. This was Sirius' room after all. It wouldn't be the first time his godfather had hidden the ink on parchment.

With a small smirk, Harry pointed his wand at the journal. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," he said. His smirk grew into an all-out smile as he watched writing appear on the parchment in front of his eyes.

_This journal is the property of Sirius Black,_ was written on the first page. Harry felt both delighted and disgusted at once. Delighted because he had another piece of his godfather there before him, something he'd craved since Sirius' death but disgusted because he realized that reading the journal would mean violating his godfather's privacy. If Sirius had wanted to tell Harry aspects of his life found within his journal, than surely he would have. But maybe Sirius had been meaning to tell him, just waiting for the right time, a time he'd never get.

After a few minutes warring with himself, Harry decided to read the contents of journal. The first entry was dated August 5th, 1975.

_This is not a diary. I am not a girl therefore this is a journal. It was all Remus' idea really. I mentioned I was doing some thinking and I was really confusing myself. He thought that if I were to write everything down, maybe I'd be less confused and who am I to argue with the great Remus Lupin? Ah, Remus. See, he's really what started all this confusion. Well, not him really. Remus is great, he'd never purposely mess with my head. Accidently though? Well, let's just say that while Remus is quite book smart, he underestimates himself far too often. He's incredible, really. I don't know what I'd do if it weren't for him. I worry sometimes about what he'd do if he found out, if he knew why I'm so confused all the time. I can't lose him, not for this. But I hate living this lie. Maybe with time it will go away. I hope it will, but I'm fairly sure that's not how it works._

The next entry was dated August 31st, 1975.

_I'm heading back to Hogwarts in the morning. I'm excited, but terrified. I know, that doesn't seem much like Sirius Black. I shouldn't be afraid of anything, but I am. I've been avoiding writing in this journal because I'm afraid of what I might end up writing. I think I know, I've known for a while, how I feel, I just haven't admitted it to myself. Even now, I can't bear to write it down. If I do, then it's real. No, it can't be real yet. I'm not ready. Maybe someday I will be, but not now. _

_ Merlin! It'll be so good to see Remus again. I really miss him, more than I should. Of course, I will be good to see James and Peter too, but not quite as good. I'm sure people wonder how Remus and I are such great friends. We seem like polar opposites, but I guess that's why we work so well. The wild and unruly Sirius Black needs an anchor, something to tether me down and bookish Remus Lupin is just the bloke for the job. I really worry sometimes what it will be like when he finds out, when he won't be my friend anymore. _

Harry's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He had no idea what Sirius was on about, but he felt like he was intruding on something very personal. But he couldn't stop reading now. He was just starting to learn about what Sirius' teenage years had been like. Maybe he'd talk more about Harry's father. Maybe Harry would learn more about all his dearly departed loved ones.

The next entry was dated September 17th, 1975.

_Oh sweet Merlin, I think I'm losing my mind. Remus is just everywhere all the time. If I thought it was bad last year, this year is a bloody nightmare. We've only been here seventeen days and all I want to do is drag him away and have my way with him. Which brings we to what I really wanted to write about today. I, Sirius Black, have somewhat of an obsession with my roommate and fellow Marauder Remus Lupin. I suppose one would say I have something of a crush. Ha! There, that wasn't so hard. I have a crush on Remus Lupin. I'm surprisingly okay with that. My only problem is that Remus Lupin definitely does not have a crush on me. I'd tell him, just to get it off my chest, but I definitely don't see that going well and I'd rather have him as a friend than not have him at all. So, yeah, I just have to _not_ jump him and everything should be fine. _

Harry was baffled. Sirius had had a crush on Remus? Why hadn't he told Harry, his own godson? Harry flipped to the next entry, dated October 3rd, 1975, and read intently.

_Apparently, my problems extend a bit farther than having a crush on Remus. I went out on a date with Melissa Young. I thought that would be the best way to get over Remus, to go out with a nice girl and put this whole thing past me. I realize that there's no chance of Remus and I every being together, so I need to move on. But, as I said, having a little crush is the least of my problems. I'm fifteen years old, for Merlin's sake. Melissa Young has what I can only describe as wonderful tits and rumour has it she's incredibly easy. So why, might I ask, does she do absolutely nothing to arouse me? Like, nothing whatsoever. Maybe I'm more in denial then I thought. Obviously, I know that I'm into men at least a little, but I thought I still liked women too. Now I'm not so sure._

Harry felt himself short of breath. His godfather was gay? Harry blinked back tears. Yet again, he cursed Voldemort for everything the slimy wizard had taken from him. He could've really used some advice. Harry wanted to talk to Sirius, to talk to him about everything. And now, all he had was this old journal and even that couldn't answer all his questions.

November 1st, 1975.

_I'm such a girl. I'm trying not to write in this thing so much. An entry a month, I like that. But it's harder than it would seem. Remus was right. Writing about my feelings does help. The thing is, here in Gryffindor tower, we're all pranksters. Well, not all of us, but most of us. I have to be careful where I keep this thing. Peter stumbled across it one day and I almost had a heart attack. Lucky for me, Peter's stupid enough to trick. I managed to convince him that it was a schoolbook. But I have to be more careful. I need to write less. I just really needed to write today. Remus spent the better part of the afternoon in the library with some girl from Ravenclaw. Now all I want to do is curl up into a ball and cry. How un-Sirius of me. But that's how I feel. I need to talk to someone, not just this dumb journal. But I don't know who. I can't bear the thought of my friends turning their backs on me._

Harry almost laughed aloud. That's exactly how he was feeling. He wondered if Sirius ever did tell anyone. So he read on to an entry from November 12th, 1975. 

_So much for not writing so often. But this isn't about Remus, well, not really. We did it! James, Peter and I finally managed to transform into our Animagus forms! We gave ourselves celebratory nicknames. Prongs for James the stag, Wormtail for Peter the rat and Padfoot for me, the big, black dog. And of course, Remus is Moony. The nickname suits him perfectly. And, I'm back to fantasizing about Remus. About Moony. Anyway, I should get my head out of the clouds. We Marauders are celebrating our achievement with some nicked firewhiskey. Heaven forbid they catch me with this thing. Peter and Remus would let it go, but James would insist on reading, even if he had to steal it from me. _

The following entry was dated December 7th, 1975.

_Just in case I die tonight, this journal entry will be written as my last message to the world. I'm about to do something very stupid. I said I couldn't keep this secret, and I meant it. Tonight, I'm going to tell James. Why James? I can't honestly say. I suppose I trust him, thought this isn't a subject I've ever heard his opinion on. Still, he very adamantly protests again Lord Voldemort and his discrimination among wizards, so surely James will treat me fairly. At least, I hope he will. The last thing I want is to lose his friendship. That's what I'm most afraid of. I finally feel like I belong somewhere. I'm not a Black. The Marauders are my family. But this is something I have to do. I'm about to go mad. I have to tell someone. _

There was a small ink smudge and another paragraph below it. There was no date and so Harry assumed this was an entry from later on that evening. Sirius had told his father and now Harry was about to read about his father's reaction.

_ James Potter hugged me. James Potter doesn't typically give hugs, but he hugged me. I was worried for a moment that he was saying goodbye to me, that he wanted me out of his life. But no, James hugged me because he supported me. Embarrassed as I am, I will admit that when James assured me that I was still his very best friend, I may have shed a few tears. It's such a relief now that someone knows. I feel like I can breathe easy. If James is going to stand by me, then I can take on anything. I didn't have the courage to tell him how I feel about Moony, but it doesn't matter. I'm out, at least to one person. I looked James Potter in the eye and said quite proudly that I am a gay man and he did not turn away from me. I can do this; I can live my life the way I want. There's nothing wrong with me and there never was. Fear of rejection, that's what was holding me back. But not anymore. Soon, I'll tell Moony and Peter too. And then, I'll tell the whole world. You know, eventually. _

It was at that moment that Harry burst out in tears. His Dad had supported Sirius. It hadn't mattered that he was gay, he still loved him. It was something Harry hated to admit, but he always wondered what his parents would think of every little thing he did. This revelation, that Sirius had been gay and that his father had accepted him, that meant the world to Harry.

The next entry was dated December 29th, 1975.

_I hate it here. I hate coming home. My parents, my brother, they all aggravate me beyond belief. I hate having to sit here and listen to them talk about _Mudblood_ this and _blood traitor _that. Mother wants me to attend a party being held at the Malfoy Manner, but there's no way I'm going. I want to go to James'. I'll sneak out. There was this kid at school, I'm not that comfortable thinking about it too much but well, he's _become_ somewhat of a laughing stock and I don't want to hear the pure-bloods gossip. A Gryffindor boy a year younger than me name Pierre something-or-other recently admitted to being bisexual. That's not going over well. I just want to go to James'. He understands. I want to talk. I can't stand being cooped up this house. If pure-bloods hate one thing more than blood traitors, it's gay witches and wizards. _

Pain settled in Harry's chest. Was this why Sirius had never come out? Was he afraid of the fallout? That didn't seem much like the Sirius Black Harry knew, but it wasn't much like the great Harry Potter to hide either and that's exactly what he was doing. And then Sirius had mentioned a Gryffindor named Pierre who was bisexual. Was that Rhea's father, Pierre Devonshire? It seemed likely to Harry.

He just had to continue reading. He had to know what happened. The next entry was from January 10th, 1976.

_Remember that resolve I talked about having. You know, how I was going to tell the world. Yeah, I'm not going to do that anymore. I told Peter. That didn't go over quite as well as it did with James. I was feeling great. James has been such a support. Lately, he's even been asking about guys I liked, just as he used to ask me about girls. I was feeling really good. I thought telling Peter was the best thing to do. Merlin, was I wrong. He got really upset with me, as though my sexuality were somehow my fault. I accepted a long time ago that there's nothing I can do to change myself, but Peter made me feel like scum. I'm worried that he'll tell others. I'm worried that he'll tell Remus. I wanted to be the one to tell him. I don't want him to hate me, and now I'm worried that he will. Prongs tried to calm me down, I was a hysterical mess after it happened. Nothing is making me feel better. I just want my life to be different. _

Harry felt his gorge rise. Peter Pettigrew, that piece of shit. It was bad enough that he sold his parents out, framed Sirius, murdered Muggles and sided with Voldemort. But this? Making Sirius feel like crap for something he couldn't control, not that it was even wrong in the first place? He was glad the rat had strangled himself with his own metal hand.

The next entry was dated March 2nd, 1976, meaning Sirius hadn't written anything for almost two months.

_I suppose I should first off tell you that things with Peter are fine. Ha, look at me talking to a journal as though it actually cares. But no, Peter and I have worked things out. He hasn't told anyone, especially not Remus, which is a great relief. He was uneducated. The only thing Peter knew about gays was what the pure-bloods had told him. I guess I can't be mad at him for the anxiety he gave me. He was just as much a victim of homophobia as I was. Or that I still am, I suppose. Staying in the closet, it seems like the safest thing to do, like it will shield you from all the pain, but it's just as bad. I know things went badly with Peter, but I can't give up on being who I am. I think I'm ready to tell Remus. Not that I love him – oh yeah, in my absence, that's something I realized – but that I'm gay. I can tell him. I trust him. _

Harry quickly turned the page to read what happened next. What had Remus said? How had he reacted? He almost cried when he read the entry from March 3rd, 1976.

_Remus said it was alright. We talked. I pulled him aside and told him everything. Again, not that I was in love with him, but everything else. He looked angry and I was ready to have him cut me out of his life but as it turns out, that's not what he wanted. He said he was angry because I told James and Peter before him. He was honestly upset with me. He said he figured I'd tell James first, but he thought he meant more to me then Peter did. I wanted to tell him he meant more to me than any of them and that's why I didn't tell him, because I was afraid to lose him, but I didn't. I'm sure he was a bit freaked out and the last thing I needed to do was go on about how important he was to me. He would get the wrong idea. Or the right idea I suppose in this case. _

_ Still, Remus said he absolutely supported me and that he didn't think of me any differently. That meant so much to me. I'd been afraid for so many years, more years than I was even aware of, that Remus would leave me. Now I know he won't. I can't explain how much weight has been lifted off my shoulders. I feel like I can breathe now. I like feeling this way. _

The next few entries were all the same. Sirius talked about life with the Marauders. A few entries talked about his relationship with Harry's father. They had been very close, Harry could see that. It was amazing to read about his father and what he was like as a teenager. Sirius mentioned his father's obsession with his mother and it made Harry smile. And Sirius spoke about his time with Remus too and how the two were almost always together. He didn't talk much about Peter, leading Harry to believe that things between them may not have been great.

The last entry in the leather-bound journal was dated December 18th, 1976. Harry read with rapt attention.

_Tomorrow marks the start of the winter holidays. All the Hogwarts students are going home. I'm going home, for the last time. I've had enough of living like this. I want to be happy. I can't be happy as long as I'm stuck in a household full of hatred and oppression. When return to number 12 Grimmauld place, I'm coming out to my family. They will disown me, of course, but that's all part of the plan. James has offered to let me stay at his place. I wouldn't go back to Gummauld place at all if it weren't for one thing; this journal. There's a loose floorboard in my bedroom and I'd very much like to hide it there. Maybe someday, someone will stumble upon it and read my story. I know my family well. They'll try to cover up my orientation, keep it a dirty little family secret. This journal will prove a physical manifestation of the metaphorical skeletons in the Black family closet. _

_ If I am to burry this journal in the floor of my childhood home, then I need to let go of the fears and insecurities that have kept me writing for all this time. I'm going to leave my family, I'm going to go live with the Potters, and I'm going to embrace who I am. But more than that, I'm finally going to tell Remus Lupin that I love him. If I want to live my life, then I've got to live it. Maybe he'll turn away from me yet, even though he seems to accept me. I can't know. But I have to try. This life is too precious to let it go to waste. I see that every day as I watch Voldemort rise to power, killing innocent people. I have to live. Who knows how much time I have left? _

And that was it. Those were the last words written by a sixteen-year-old Sirius Black in his old journal. What had happened between Sirius and Remus? Had Remus returned his feelings? Did they ever find happiness together? Had Remus even had feelings for Sirius? Maybe Sirius had lost his nerve and never told him in the first place.

After reading his godfather's journal, Harry was struck with a sudden clarity. He knew exactly what he had to do. Much like Sirius, he was afraid the people he loved would turn away from him. But Sirius had risen above his fears. He'd come to terms with who he was and now it was Harry's turn.

Harry returned downstairs and took hold of his unopened trunk. Shrinking it down, he placed it in his pocket and without thinking on it further, lest he change his mind, he apparated to the Weasley family home.

When he arrived on the Burrow doorstep, Harry knocked on the door. Molly answered a few moments later and upon seeing Harry, she broke out into a large grin.

"Harry darling, it's so good to see you," she greeted. "Ron said you weren't coming. What brings you here, not that we aren't thrilled to have you?"

"I'm in love with Draco Malfoy," Harry blurted, his face white as a sheet. Mrs Weasley's smile faltered for just a moment before it returned with a kinder, more understanding air.

"Why don't you come inside, Dear?" Mrs Weasley requested, placing a hand on Harry's arm.

"You're not going to turn me away?" Harry said, sounding dumbfounded.

"Of course not, Harry," Mrs Weasley said seriously. "I've already got a daughter dating a boy from Slytherin. Why support my daughter and not my son?"

Harry's eyes filled with tears. "Thank you."

Mrs Weasley began to laugh. "Why are you thanking me, Harry?" she asked. "Now, come inside. The kids will be glad you decided to come."

Harry hesitantly followed Molly into the kitchen. The first person to notice him was Hermione. She jumped to her feet and hugged him tightly.

"Harry," she squealed. "I thought you weren't coming."

"I found Sirius' old journal while cleaning out Grimmauld place," Harry explained. "I realized that there was something I needed to do."

"Which is?" Ron prompted when Harry didn't continue. The entire Weasley clan was congregated in the kitchen. Bill and Fleur were home for the holidays as were Charlie and Percy. George was also home, taking time off from the shop. Ginny and Theo were seated next to Arthur at the table. They all looked at Harry expectantly. He hadn't intended to tell everyone all at once but hey, why not?

"I'm gay."

Silence fell over the usually loud house. Ron was the first to break the silence.

"Alright mate, that's cool," he said, shrugging.

"Of course it is," Mr Weasley said quickly. "Now, Harry, are you staying long?"

"Wait, you're all okay with this?" Harry asked, still stunned.

George stood and walked over to Harry's side, slinging an arm around his shoulders. "Harry, mate, do you think we've never met anyone whose gay before? Really now. In fact, Lee Jordan came out to Fred and I in Fifth or Sixth year, something like that. I don't treat him any differently and I won't treat you differently either."

"George is right," Ginny said. "We love you all the same, Harry. Now come sit down. Have you eaten yet?"

"No, not yet," Harry replied. "I am awfully hungry though. What's for dinner?"

As Harry sat at the Weasley's table and was fed by his surrogate mother, Molly, he couldn't help but smile. Things were looking up for Harry. Now all he had to do was make up with Draco and hope Pansy Parkinson didn't kill him before he could make things right. 


	13. Fear

**Hey look, this is all late and stuff. I did warn you. I hope you all enjoy and thank you for being so patient. Please leave a review and tell me what you though. I appreciate them greatly. Next chapter will probably be just as slow to come. But don't worry, it's not over. **

**Chapter 13**

**Fear**

Draco Malfoy stood anxiously alongside his mother at King's Cross Station, platform nine and three quarters. When he had first arrived at Malfoy manner, he had been so distraught over his encounter with Harry the night before, he was barely able keep himself composed. His mother, of course, had noticed, and, of course, she had wanted to talk about it, but the wound was still too raw and Draco declined. Much of his holiday was spent reassuring his mother that he was not about to fall apart at the seams. As time went on, his mood grew considerably better and eventually, Narcissa had stopped asking what had happened.

Thus, Draco had yet to tell her he was gay.

He knew there was no way he could put it off until the summer. It was a miracle she hadn't already heard through the Pureblood grapevine. She deserved to hear it from him, but he was just so afraid to ruin the bond they were slowly building. Things between them weren't the same as they had been before the war. Draco and his mother had always loved one another – Draco knew Narcissa cared more about him than she did her own life – but the love he'd always known was there had become more tangible. They told one another they loved each other. They spoke about their feelings. It wasn't a typical Malfoy thing and at first, Draco had thought it immeasurably strange, but he had no quarrels with welcoming this new way of loving. It was nice.

So what if his confession went and ruined that?

"Draco, Darling, are you alright?" Narcissa asked, looking over at her only child sidelong. "You've been on edge since arriving home. I know you were upset, and we didn't talk about it. Is there anything I can do?"

Draco bit his lip, at war with himself. The train's whistle blew, signalling it would be leaving very soon, and he looked over at it. He almost jumped when he felt a soft hand clasp his own, his eyes darting back to his mother.

"Don't worry about the train," she said, shaking her head. "If you need me, we can work out another way to get you back. I'm your mother, Draco. I want to be there for you." Her voice dropped to the barest hints of a whisper as she continued. "You have been through far too much for a boy your age. You were supposed to be my little boy, and you grew up to fast, and I know that was my fault. What your father and I put you through, what we brought you into, it was a bad thing. I was supposed to protect you, and instead I did the opposite. Let me be you're mother, please. If not for you, than do it for me."

Moved by his mother's words, Draco pulled her into a tight embrace. He didn't dare look her in the eyes, hearing the tears in her voice and not being strong enough a man to see them too.

"You _are_ my mother," he insisted, his voice full of raw sincerity. "I wouldn't have asked for another. Stop putting all the blame on yourself. You'll make yourself ill."

"Then would you please tell me what's been troubling you?" Narcissa pleaded. Draco pressed a quick kiss to her cheek and held her at arm's length. He heard the final warning whistle sound, and though he knew first-hand how terrible it was to receive earthshattering news from a runner, he saw only one option that appealed to both is cowardice and his mother's wishes.

"Mother, I'm gay," he blurted before turning on his heels and walking as fast as could pass for normal towards the Hogwarts Express. He made his way with purpose towards the compartment car he had seen Theo watching him from – nosy sod.

"I'm assuming that was you, only now scrounging up the courage to tell your mother," Theo said, not bothering to turn in Draco's direction as he entered their compartment, watching though he window as the train rolled away from the station.

"She didn't pass out or anything of the sort," he added, finally turning to face the blond, trying to be helpful. "I'd take that as a good sign."

"Or she was already coming up with ways to humiliatingly disinherit me," Draco offered, taking a seat opposite Theo.

"It'll be fine, Draco," Theo insisted, laying a comforting hand on his knee. Though Slytherins were given a reputation for being cold and emotionless by the students at Hogwarts, they stuck together just as much as the students from any other House. Was it such an atrocity that they weren't keen to parade through the halls arm in arm and scream the sincerity of their friendships to the world?

"Thank you for your support, it means the world," Draco sighed. "But if you wouldn't mind, I'd like to be alone."

"Of course," Theo said, nodding solemnly. "I had planned to spend the trip with Ginny anyhow, it's no bother. I just wanted to make sure you were alright."

"You're a good friend," Draco said, smiling. Theo's answering smile was almost infectious.

"And you're, well, you're a friend too I suppose," he teased, drawing a chuckle out of the blond just as he'd hoped to. As much as he wanted to honour Draco's wishes and give him his space, he didn't want to leave him alone while feeling so down. Hopefully the little laugh and helped.

As it turned out, Theo had no reason to worry about Draco being alone and down for long. It wasn't more than a few minutes after Theo had left that Draco heard a knock on his compartment door. Without waiting for an answer, Seamus stepped into the compartment and sat across from the moping Slytherin.

"Alright, who died?" the Irishman asked, crossing his arms in what appeared to be frustration.

"I'm sorry?" Draco asked, not fully understanding. Aside from the fact that no one was dead, he was confused by Seamus's choice to approach him. Though they were connected to each other just as much as they were connected to Rhea, they didn't engage one another much during the time they spent together and never once had they spoken without Rhea present.

"There's an anvil on your chest," Seamus said. Draco looked down and examined his aforementioned chest, prompting the Gryffindor to scoff. "Well not literally."

"I still don't follow," Draco sighed, shaking his head.

"Are you forgetting our empathy link?" Seamus asked. "You're absolutely gutted. Is this still Harry?"

"Uh, no," the Slytherin replied slowly, still trying to understand Seamus's motivations.

"Look, I know this is weird," the Gryffindor said, gesturing between himself and Draco, ascertaining the relationship between them. "Unprecedented, actually. The only times we've exchanged words in the past we were volleying insults back and forth. We're not exactly chummy, but I thought, seeing as how I could tell you were struggling with something, I'd try to help you through it. We had plenty of reasons to argue in the past but now, we've kinda got one big one to get along, and her name's Rhea."

"While this is very kind of you, Seamus, I don't know how much I want to talk about it," Draco said. "I wouldn't take offense; I don't want to talk about it with anyone."

"So, not a Harry thing?" he asked again, just to be sure. Draco wanted to get annoyed with him, but when he focused on the empathy link, all he could feel was concern coming from the boy in front of him and he caved.

"My mother, actually," the blond sighed, picking at his nails anxiously. "I wanted to tell her about me during the holiday, but I kept losing my nerve. I let it go so long I found myself at King's Cross station with her and I had yet to say a word regarding my orientation."

"And you thought it would be a brilliant idea to tell her right before jumping on the train," Seamus finished, finally understanding why he'd caught that sudden influx of part panic, part pain through the link.

"Turns out, it wasn't such a brilliant idea," Draco sighed. "I should have remembered from when I told Pansy. I don't mind saying it; it's waiting for a reaction that kills me. In the five seconds it took Pansy to tell me she was okay with things, I almost had a heart attack. It's been a little more than five seconds since telling Mother."

To Draco's utter surprise, Seamus exploded in a fit of laughter.

"Excuse me," Draco bellowed.

"I'm sorry," Seamus exclaimed while trying to catch his breath. "I'm being so rude. It's just, the parallels between your behaviours. It really is hysterical."

"Again, Seamus, I'm not following," Draco said. He was sure the Irishman had a plenty nice personality – Rhea wouldn't have bonded with him otherwise – but he certainly didn't make a lot of sense.

"You ran away from your mother, and even though it's killing you that you don't know how she's reacting to your confession, at least she can't reject you this way. If you didn't care about her opinion, you would've just told her from the beginning. But you do, and I bet Harry did too."

Draco had been following, up until the point Seamus had mentioned Harry. He was lost again, and Seamus could tell, so he carried on with his explanation.

"Why did you kiss Harry, Draco? I know why, and Rhea knows why, but does Harry? Did you tell him how you felt?"

"I believe it was implied," the Slytherin answered.

"So in other words, Harry had no solid proof of how you felt."

"I kissed back!"

"You could've just been swept up in the moment for all he knew," Seamus pressed. "It happened to me, yeah. I'm sure Rhea's mentioned Dean and our little celebratory kiss. Because that's all it was – a celebratory kiss. We'd escaped death, after all. When I kissed him, he kissed back, but not because of me. No, it was all for the bloody moment. Has it yet to occur to you that maybe Harry was just trying to protect himself from being rejected by you?

"Moreover," Seamus continued. "If he's not honest with himself, if he doesn't own up to his sexuality – be he homosexual, bisexual or Draco-sexual – no one else he cares about has cause to reject him. No one says _Look! It's a straight man! The horror! Grab your torches! Shun! Shun!_ The way you ran from your mother is the same as how Harry's been running from everyone else. It's all fear-based."

"You realize, if you're wrong about this, you're making one giant arse of yourself," Draco admonished, but the true meaning behind his words was understood. _Thanks for the pep talk_.

"It's nothing I don't do on a daily basis anyway," Seamus joked before turning to exit the compartment.

Draco thought that once Seamus was gone, he would be able to pass the rest of the journey in peace, but very few minutes passed before there was a knock at his door once again.

"For Merlin's sake, Seamus, if you're back to pester me, you'd best leave now," Draco snapped as the door opened. He froze in his place as he saw Harry Potter standing in his doorway sporting a rather sheepish expression. In his stupor, "you're not Seamus," was all the blond could think to say.

"No, no I'm not," was Harry's stunned reply. Seeing Harry here at his door, the memory of being fled from mid-snog fresh in his mind, the vehemence returned to Draco tenfold.

"Are you training for the hundred meter dash? Hoping maybe the sight of me will help you run a record time? Here, let me kiss you. The professionals won't know what hit them," he barked.

Harry's face turned red and he shifted from foot to foot, looking much like someone who wanted to squirm out of their own skin. "I came to apologize," he said softly, entering the compartment and closing the door in the vain hopes this blow-up could remain semi-private.

"For not making time or for ever being born?" the Slytherin growled.

"Yeah, you're angry, I get it," Harry sighed in defeat. "Go on then, hex me, or punch me, whichever you'd prefer. Both if you want."

"Sit down," Draco ordered, and then, as an afterthought, "I'm not going to punch you."

"I am so sorry," Harry said after a moment of uncomfortable silence. "I was afraid, alright. Me, the bloke who took down the darkest wizard of all time, can't handle the thought of starting a relationship with someone he fancies, just because he's a bloke too. Merlin, I'm pathetic."

Instead of replying that, yes, Harry was pathetic, Draco rather timidly asked, "You fancy me?"

Harry let out a nervous chuckle. "A lot."

Leaning over, Draco reached for one of Harry's hands and the Golden Boy not only allowed the contact, but took it a step further and twined their fingers together. He looked up into storm grey eyes and smiled serenely.

"I fancy you too," Draco said shyly. "A lot. And I know you were afraid. I've had a lot of past experiences with fear. I shouldn't have snapped at you when you first came in."

"You had a right to be angry," Harry argued. "What I did, when I left you at the tower, it wasn't the most honourable thing I've ever done. Now that I've come to terms with everything, I think back to how that night should have gone, and I know I should have been brave for you. You deserve only the best from me, and if I haven't lost you for good, I promise I'll always give it to you."

"Um, hello, Mr Prince Charming, that's not how relationships work," Draco said, chuckling at Harry's naivety. "Obviously, you're not supposed to be shitty on purpose, but from what I've gathered, relationships aren't all moonlight and roses. What makes relationships triumph is loving the bad in someone as much as you love the good in them. You've seen just about all the bad things about me I have to offer, and somehow you still fancy me; clearly, you should understand this better than anyone. So, you run when you're scared. My defence mechanism involves lots of yelling and hexing. I don't want to date the Golden Boy, or Harry Potter, Saviour of the Wizarding World. Just Harry, alright?"

And Harry couldn't help it. Once again, his body, moving of its own accord, brought Draco's lips and his own crashing together, but he wasn't running this time. The very thing he had been scared of having had become something he was scared of losing. And maybe it wouldn't be blissfully easy, but since when had anything between he and Draco ever been easy?

Kissing, Harry realized with a jolt. Kissing Draco Malfoy was blissfully easy.


End file.
